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maladaptive-daydreamer-23 · 9 days ago

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Vixen

Part 1 • Part 2

A/N: I have… nothing to say for myself… except… enjoy???

Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 50 FOLLOWERS!!!!!

Love,

Mal 💋

Warnings: 18+ beyond this point!!!! Minors DNI, Mirrors, Thigh Riding, Mild Dirty Talk, Pet Names, exhibtionism??? If you squint???, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Lap Dance, Female Orgasm, Dom/sub if you use a microscope, praise kink, teasing, Mentions Of Trafficking (type unspecified), Canon Typical Case stuff, I think this is the longest my warning section has ever been, if I missed anything please tell me!

Additional information: Hotch likes to watch, the smut is there I promise, so sorry this took me two weeks, my life is nuts

Pairing: Hotch x UndercoverBAU!Reader (NO Y/N)

WC: 8,181

AO3 here

Back to Mal’s Masterlist

Hotch had known he would live to regret approving this undercover operation. He also knew he would never be able to look you in the eyes again, especially after what he was about to do.

As he entered the club, the bouncers stopped him at the door to pat him down. He was unarmed and that made things even more stressful. You were already in there, with no back up and no wire to call for help. The only way they had been able to keep an eye on you was Garcia. They’d gotten a warrant to tap phones and hack security feeds. So Garcia, Reid and JJ were watching from a van a few blocks away. Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi were with swat, as they were every night for the past month, waiting for you to give one of two signals. The first meant that you had all the evidence they needed to bring down the trafficking ring they’d been after for months.

The second meant your cover was blown and you needed help or you were going to die.

Thankfully, the second hadn’t happened and he had no reason to suspect they’d made you or were suspicious. Unfortunately, the first hadn’t happened yet either. No, the reason Hotch was coming to meet you, was because there’d been a major development on the outside. One that you really needed to know about.

He knew he didn’t really fit the role he was coming here to play, but he already had one agent in this hell hole with no weapons or back up. There was no way he was going to send in another, not when there was such a high risk of getting caught.

Not when the consequence might’ve been death.

So here he was, sitting front row, center stage, as you walked out into the spotlight and wrapped your dainty little hand around the gleaming stainless steel of a stripper pole. It felt wrong.

Watching you like this…

In person.

Not from behind the screen of a CCTV, where watching you was simply part of the job he had to do to make sure you were still safe. Here though, here he could see everything. In a way he was incredibly uncomfortable with, because he could no longer keep his eyes from wandering. He couldn’t help the thoughts that forced their way into the forefront of his mind. He could not deny the way you made him feel.

Not when he was close enough to see the detail of the red lace that barely covered anything. Close enough to see the matching red polish on your fingers and toes. The way your hair was glinting in the red stage light.

Red.

Everything was red; your lips, your lingerie, your fingers, toes and even your heels. That drove him insane. Red was a weakness of his, especially on you and you wore it every night. It was part of your stage presence, your character. Red like a fox, after the moniker you had chosen; Vixen. He couldn’t help but think it fitting.

As the music began to play, he sent up a prayer to whomever was listening.

The club had been lenient with you so far, allowing you to keep your lingerie on as you danced. Letting you get a little more comfortable on stage before expecting you to bare yourself to the crowd.

They had… until a few nights ago anyway. When in the middle of your routine with a group of other girls, one of them had unclipped your bra for you.

You had simply let it fall to the floor.

Hotch and Spencer had both been watching from the van that night, and had immediately exited the vehicle. Leaving Garcia and JJ to keep watch over you until your limited clothing was securely back on your person.

He hoped beyond all reason that you wouldn’t be exposed like that with him sitting this close. Because if he looked away, it would call the attention of the bouncers. The men who frequented this establishment did not shy away from nudity, they reveled in it, leaned in to get a better look. Which had him regretting every life decision that had brought him to this moment, because if he didn’t look away, he would never be able to erase the sight of you from his mind.

He knew what he had to do. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty about it. No. The shame had already risen in his belly and was slowly clawing its way up his throat. It only got worse when he thought about what he’d have to do next.

He’d seen countless other men do it over the last few weeks. So he knew that when your dance was over, he had to flag down a bouncer, and request a private dance from you. That was the only way to get you alone, so he could give you the information you needed. The only way to speak to you unseen and unheard. They didn’t record the private rooms, they didn’t even have audio in there, so you wouldn’t actually have to dance for him.

Still, he was nervous about it. About all of it.

Try as he might to convince himself that the anxiety—clutching his heart with a grip made of titanium—was because he knew you could both die if your cover was blown. The lie just didn’t ring true.

Not as your perfect leg bent at the knee and gripped the spinning expanse of metal. Not as your back arched and your head tipped back, so slowly it was agonizing. Your hair, just barely grazing the floor in all its glory, was a bit too tempting for his sanity.

He was anxious—more like petrified—because he knew that as soon as you walked into that room in a few minutes you would be able to read him like a book. Then you would know.

So he watched, with bated breath, as you danced. Looking as though you’d been born to it. You were a natural.

He knew, of course, that when they’d started planning this undercover op you had enrolled in an exotic dancing class that also offered pole dancing. But you’d only been in classes for a month.

Which meant calling you a natural wasn’t a stretch.

He didn’t know how he was going to remember what he was supposed to tell you. Everytime he looked at you a little too long, his mind went blank and his mouth stopped working.

He was so absorbed in watching you, he didn’t even notice that you’d seen him. You were on the floor of the stage, thrusting your hips up into the air and rolling them, then all the sudden, you were making very intense eye contact. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t look away. Your eyes burned into his like lasers, but there was no disgust, no accusation, no confusion.

Then the song was over and you started to gather the money that had been thrown at you and landed on the stage.

A wave of shame crashed over him and Hotch looked away.

You’d clocked Hotch’s tall broad frame the moment he’d entered the club. His gait as recogniseable to you as your own face in the mirror.

You had him memorized. Every single mannerism was familiar to you, every word predictable.

You had kept an eye on him as you’d danced, worried about him fitting in, but his acting was impeccable. The way he had watched you when you were doing your floor work had been… heated. You almost would have thought it was real… if you didn’t know better, of course.

It’d been a month since you last saw him, or any member of your team, in person. Communicating only through weekly calls on a burner that you had hidden in your UC nest apartment.

Your last check in had been the night before. So you had turned the phone off. If Hotch was here–inside the club, you knew he was always watching from outside–that meant he had something very important to tell you. He would never risk your cover otherwise. So as soon as your dance had been over and you’d gathered all your hard earned cash and gone to the locker room to put on some lingerie that was a little less–revealing.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later a bouncer caught you on your way out of the locker room.

“Hey Vixen!” He’d called out. “You got a guy in room one, he bought an hour. Nice work!”

An hour!? Holy shit, this was either really bad… or they were about to raid the club and sent Hotch in first to get you out of harm's way. You had assumed he would just ask you to sit at the table with him otherwise.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” You assured him.

Your stripper name had been a joke that Derek and Spencer had come up with while you’d been preparing for this operation. Derek had made the comment that you were a fox in the henhouse so you should go by Foxy as a joke. You and the other three women on the team had groaned, complaining that Foxy was the least sexy stripper name you could think of. Specifically because it reminded you of the bully from the Chicken Little movie. Then Spencer, of all people, had suggested Vixen, because that was the term for female foxes. You had all agreed that it was much sexier and still just as funny. You still smiled to yourself every time you thought about the look on Hotch’s and Rossi’s faces when you’d told them.

You didn’t knock before you entered the room, you simply slipped inside quietly, closing the door silently behind you.

Though dimly lit, you had no trouble observing the concerning body language that was reflected at you in the mirror lined room.

He was pacing, staring at the floor in front of him, his thumb rubbing the side of his forefinger anxiously.

Great. So it was bad news then.

He turned to trod back toward you on the path he was wearing into the floor, but stopped on a dime when he saw you.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. Remembering the camera in the corner that he didn’t know about.

“Hi, I’m Vixen.” You said, using the sensual tone you’d perfected over the last month. One of the other, more veteran, dancers had told you that the syrupy sweet customer service tone you came in with might have worked as a waitress, but wouldn’t cut it as a stripper. So you’d practiced. “What’s your name, handsome?”

Hotch blinked at you a few times, confusion evident in his expression. You slowly, but purposefully, turned your body toward the wall to your right, tipping your head forward so that your hair fell in front of your face. Obscuring your mouth from the camera in the left corner. Opposite the door you’d just walked through.

“Camera.” You mouthed in his direction, flicking your eyes toward it.

You saw the panic that took over his face for a split second. Then he went stone faced just as quickly.

“Aaron.” He murmured softly.

“Aaron.” You repeated, as though testing the way the word tasted on your tongue. You were, in truth, you’d never said his first name before. Not aloud… not to him… but at night, in your bed, when you were all alone…

No, stop. You can’t think about that right now. Not with what you had to do next.

He nodded, as though confirming that, yes, that was his name. You smiled salaciously at him for the camera’s benefit and he froze. You took a few steps closer, keeping the camera behind you so that you could give him an apologetic look.

“I like it.” You said keeping your tone the same as it had been. “It’s strong… like you I’m sure.”

He cleared his throat, shifting his feet. Where was this awkwardness coming from? You had never seen Hotch act like this before. He was always confident. Sometimes anxious, if he was worried for someone’s safety, but he never acted like he did not know what to do or say next.

“Have a seat.” You gestured to the long couch against the wall. Slinking over to it yourself and lounging lazily against the backrest.

He hesitated. Frowning-no, glaring at the couch as though it was a danger to his health.

“Aaron, sweetheart. Relax.” You soothed, pulling him out of his stupor. “We’re just getting comfortable.”

He came over and sat—several feet away from you—on the edge of the couch. Your back was to the camera so you rolled your eyes at him playfully. Then you scooted closer.

“I don’t bite.” You teased, he looked back at you, his eyes clearly stating that he was skeptical of that claim.

“Sorry.” He croaked and then cleared his throat, flattening his hands against his slacks and rubbing his thighs forcefully. As if his palms were sweaty. “I’ve never—ummm. I haven’t ever…”

You nodded your understanding.

“You’ve never had a lap dance before?” You asked. Not judgmentally—of course, this only bolstered your preconceived notions about him, he was a gentleman—just softly, soothingly. Hoping to calm him because you knew that if you didn’t the bouncers would know something was strange.

He cleared his throat again and shook his head.

“I’ve never even been to a… club… before. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He murmured quietly.

Translation: this is completely uncharted territory and there are no policies about this particular situation to guide me. You’re my subordinate and this is fucking weird. I don’t know what to do.

Got it. You nodded slowly.

“That’s okay, this is a pretty normal reaction. I can walk you through it.” You replied, but what you meant was: I’ve got this, follow my lead. “Why don’t we go over the rules, do’s and don’ts, and that’ll tell you what to expect and then if you’re still uncomfortable then we can just sit here and talk, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard, and he still looked so nervous you felt the need to poke the bear a little. To break the ice.

“I’m honored by the way.” You said, letting your tone convey the mischief coming his way.

“Honored?” He asked, his back straightening a bit, and there was that look you adored. The one that practically screamed ‘what the actual fuck’ even though you knew he’d never say those words outloud. He was a gentleman.

“Mm hmm.” You hummed, giving him a mischievous grin. “I consider it an honor that you chose me to pop your metaphorical cherry.”

He choked on air, coughing and spluttering. You chuckled softly, amazed at how flustered he was getting. The Hotch you knew was stoic, confident and poised.

The man before you now was a wreck.

Hotch had not been prepared for this.

The lingerie, the sensual tone, the way you seemed so at ease—like you’d been doing this for years, not just one month—the way you were looking at him, the dirty jokes, it was all just too much.

He hadn’t expected there to be a camera in the corner of the mirror lined room. Garcia hadn’t found this one’s frequency or whatever it was called. He’d have to tell her about it later to see if she could find it. For now though, he was going to have to get creative with his words to tell you what you needed to know, without raising suspicion.

“So,” He breathed, clearing his throat for what felt like the thousandth time since you entered the room. (It was embarrassing, honestly.) “how does this work?”

What he was trying to ask was: how am I supposed to tell you sensitive information without blowing your cover? He could tell that you understood by the look in your eyes.

“Well, you paid for sixty minutes and it’s been about three. So, we can spend that time however you want to spend it, as long as you follow the rules.” You explained to him, then started listing said rules. “First, I have to tell you that we’re being recorded. It’s for my safety and yours. That way, no one tries to take more than they paid for, and none of the dancers can claim sexual assault if it didn’t really happen.”

He noted the way you phrased that, and fully understood the meaning behind it. The camera was to cover the ass of the establishment, not to protect the girls or the patrons. Classy.

He nodded that he understood.

“Now don’t let the camera scare you, these tapes are erased and recorded over every night unless something happens that the club needs a record of.” You explained. “So the tape won’t get out unless you… do something ungentlemanly.”

He nodded again, no one would be analyzing this recording after the fact. Got it. That also explained why Penelope couldn’t hack into this feed. It’s old school tech. No internet required.

“The bouncers are watching us, but don’t be embarrassed, when I turn on the music to dance it will drown us out and they won’t be able to hear anything. They also can’t see your face from this angle, so we still have some privacy.” Your expression gave that phrase its true meaning.

I have to dance if the music is on, or they’ll be suspicious. If I don’t turn on the music you can’t tell me what you came here to say without being overheard.

He felt his heart trying to beat its way up into his esophagus. Choking him as it pounded.

“Now, nothing happens without my say so, got it?” You said sternly, for the camera’s benefit, as if he really was a stranger. A patron. It made him feel a little sick to his stomach. This felt as though he were demeaning you, debasing you. He didn’t like that, not at all. “You don’t touch me unless I say so, and only where I allow it.”

He would never, and he knew you knew that—he hoped you did anyway—but he still hated hearing you say it.

This was the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever experienced on the job. You were his subordinate and he was your boss. There was already a clear power imbalance between you. That was the only reason he hadn’t already made any advances with you. Now, you were standing before him, nearly naked, and he was fully clothed. He didn’t know how you were so calm, how this didn’t make you want to crawl out of your own skin.

To make matters worse, his body and his morals were at odds with each other. In his head he knew how messed up this was, but his libido did not care. You were simply stunning and every fiber of him was hyper aware of it.

“Of course.” He replied, giving you an apologetic look in response. Hoping that you hadn’t had any trouble of that sort from other men in the last month.

“Your clothes stay on, even if mine don’t. If the bouncers see a dick, they will barge in here and ask you to leave. They will not be nice about it.” You continued the rules for the benefit of the camera. Then you hesitated and he knew that whatever you said next was for his benefit only. “As long as you’re comfortable, I’ll keep going. If you don’t want me to do something, just say so and I’ll stop. Are you ready?”

No, he was not, and would never be. This was going to completely ruin his professional relationship with you. He was sure of it.

He nodded anyway, knowing he had no other choice.

“It’s gonna be okay, Aaron.” You whispered, so quietly he barely heard it. Then you got up, walked over to a sound system in the far corner, selected a song and set a timer. The timer seemed to be protocol but he knew you also didn’t want the bouncers to interrupt and hear anything they shouldn’t.

The music was loud, the bass made the whole room vibrate, it was sensual and the lyrics were beyond suggestive, bordering on raunchy.

When you started to dance, running your hands over your body, he did his best to keep eye contact. So you would know he was being respectful, professional. It didn’t help to look away, the mirrors reflected you from every angle. You’d said the camera couldn’t see his face, so that was the least he could do. He hated putting you in this situation, but there was nothing he could do now except make you as comfortable as possible.

You held eye contact with him, even as you dropped to the floor, crawling to him on your hands and knees, then sat on your knees between his feet. You leaned back, dragging your hands up your thighs, stomach, and breasts, then above your head as you completely laid down on your back in front of him.

This, Hotch thought, was his own personal hell. Being forced to sit here and watch you move like that, knowing it was only because you had to to maintain your cover.

Your legs were in the air now, kicking sensually, then spreading wide. The red of your panties—because of course you’d chosen red for the second time tonight—caught his attention briefly and he cursed himself for looking. He closed his eyes, clenching his jaw and thought about literally anything else. Praying he wouldn’t get an erection.

Then you climbed up into his lap, and began to ride his thigh.

Hotch bit his own tongue, doing whatever he could to stop the inevitable. Even if it meant causing himself a little pain.

“I’m so sorry.” You murmured in his ear, your hands on his chest. “It's part of the routine they taught me.”

“It’s fine.” He gritted out.

“Why are you here? Has something happened?” You asked him, and for the life of him, he couldn’t remember.

Not with you rolling your hips like that. Not when he could feel the heat of your core through the fabric of his slacks.

Luckily you continued without giving him a chance to respond.

“Has there been a leak? Do they suspect me?” You asked and the tinge of fear in your voice had him opening his eyes.

“No! Nothing like that, you’ve done an excellent job. They don’t suspect a thing, as far as we can tell.” He assured you softly, looking into your eyes to make sure the fear left them. “You’re still safe, I promise.”

And since he was studying your face, he saw.

He saw the way the fear melted away as you flushed at the praise, and he felt the way your thighs clenched around his. He was intrigued, unsure of what he knew he’d seen and felt, so he started to pay attention.

You noticed his attention, the change in his expression from soothing reassurance to curiosity. Your brow furrowed and you gave him a questioning look, then you stood. Your dance moves had become increasingly filthy and when you turned around and bent over, putting your ass almost directly in his face, with your legs spread open, he noticed something that hadn’t been there before.

A patch of darker fabric had appeared on your panties. Right over your pussy.

He glanced down at his lap, finding another dark patch on his leg, he touched it and his fingers came away damp.

You were wet, soaked.

Because of him?

Well… he didn’t see any other men in the room that you could’ve had that reaction for.

The way he was looking at you had changed. It wasn’t… uncomfortable? Not anymore. It was searching. Scathing? Questioning? Scrutinizing.

It felt like his eyes were filleting you. Deconstructing and analyzing your every move. You didn’t know what had caused the sudden shift in his demeanor, but you were worried that it’d been something you’d done.

You sank down to your knees again, facing away from him, as you leaned forward onto your elbows and arched your back so that your ass was high in the air. Legs still spread wide, a gust of cool air hit you and suddenly you weren’t sure that your ass was the only thing on display.

You sat up, leaning back so that your head fell into his lap. Touching your body in ways that felt so much more intimate now than they had when you’d practiced, you looked up at him.

Then you met his gaze again, and his eyes seemed to devour you. He wasn’t just keeping them respectfully trained on your face anymore. He was drinking you in and it intoxicated you. Even though part of you knew you had to be imagining it.

“I need you to do something for me.” He murmured, and you could swear he was looking straight into your soul.

Your breath turned to lava in your lungs. That tone of voice was much different as well… and you didn’t know how to react to it.

“Sir?” You asked, barely breathing at all now.

“We received intel that the ring is smuggling in a shipment tomorrow night, I need you to confirm that it’s happening. Can you do that?” He responded, his voice barely a rumble in his chest.

Oh, it was only about the case. You relaxed a bit.

“Of course. I’ll do my best.” You assured him.

“Good girl.” He purred, so nonchalantly you thought you’d misheard it. You blinked up at him, stunned, even as your body reacted. You felt your nipples harden, poking at the rough lace of your teddy. You’d chosen this one because it covered more of you than what you’d previously had on, but you hadn’t considered how flimsy it was. So when his eyes flicked up to your chest, you knew he could see them, and he looked… pleased?

The choreo you had memorized put you in his lap again, rolling your hips and grinding your ass against him. You felt the need to apologize again.

“I’m so sorry…” You winced, knowing that you’d never be able to look him in the eyes again, not when you felt so guilty for being turned on by this.

And you were.

You had held it together so well until he had praised you and prioritized your comfort in the same breath. The way he had looked at you when he said it… like nothing mattered more to him in that moment than making sure you were okay. It had drawn you in, and the proximity to his body had done the rest. Until he’d called you a good girl with the confidence of someone who knew you’d like it. You felt like there was a fire in your belly and a river between your thighs.

All because of his words.

“Don’t be sorry, you’re doing great sweetheart.” He rasped in your ear.

You froze, was he…? No.

“Don’t stop, they’ll think something is wrong and come in. We don’t want that, do we?” His voice, low and rough, flowed over you pushing your heart into overdrive.

What the fuck?

“Hotch?” Your voice came out in a strangled gasp, completely unsure of the situation, and desperately hoping you weren’t misreading him.

He shifted his weight, making you settle more firmly into his lap.

And then you felt it, solid and warm against your ass as you continued to roll your hips against him.

He was hard.

Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked over your shoulder at him.

“You– you’re– Are you?” You stuttered, then closed your mouth so hard that your teeth clicked.

He smirked at you, and your breath hitched.

“I am, it’s a little hard not to be when you’ve left a mess on my thigh.” He murmured.

You threw a panicked glance down at his leg, the one you had straddled before, and found a spot that was darker than the rest. Gasping in horror, you tried to stand, to separate yourself from him.

“Stop.” His voice was commanding and strong, any hint of nervousness that may have been there previously was now long gone. You obeyed, but you didn’t sit back in his lap, instead choosing to sit between his feet on the floor. As though that was what you had intended to do all along if anyone was watching. “There’s no need to panic, but I need you to tell me the truth. Is it the atmosphere? The music, the physical contact, the clothes? All of those things can trick your psyche into thinking you feel things that aren’t real, that aren’t true. And that’s perfectly normal and not at all anything to be ashamed of. So, is it that? Or–”

He paused, swallowing hard and then taking a deep breath. His eyes trained on the ceiling.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this…” He mumbled under his breath, then looked down at you with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before. “Is it me you’re reacting to? Am I making you feel this way?”

You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t know what to say, how to act! You couldn’t read him, pick up on his nonverbal cues, or his verbal ones! Your brain had left the building, fuck, it had fled the country and was on a beach in Tahiti for all the good it was doing you!

On one hand, you were mortified. You had just left a wet spot on your boss’s thigh, and that was bureaucratic suicide, you’d have to quit your job, request a transfer to the Alaskan field office, or the Hawaian one. No, you didn’t deserve Hawaii. Alaska. You’d go to Alaska. As far away from him as possible so you’d probably never see him again. That sounded great!

But…

On the other hand…

He was hard. Which meant he was also at least a little bit into this.

Into you.

There was nothing you wanted more than him, in this moment especially.

So you let your brain take that Tahitian vacation, and your raging hormones take the reins. Which is why you let down every wall, knocking down every carefully placed brick, and looked him in the eyes.

“Yes.” You whispered, unable to think of a single other thing to say.

“Yes?” He asked for clarification, needing to be sure that you meant what he thought you meant.

“Yes, it's you.” You breathed.

He almost couldn’t believe his ears, but his eyes were showing him the exact same evidence and he couldn’t deny what he was seeing.

You were a mess. Your chest was heaving with labored breaths, your pupils dilated till they nearly over took your irises, you were quivering under his gaze and biting your lip so hard hewas afraid you’d break the skin.

You wanted him.

He didn’t have time to process the thrill of elation that shivered up his spine. He only had about fifty minutes left with you, and he still had to tell you everything he could to keep you safe while you went snooping in places you probably shouldn’t.

But first…

He was going to make you ride his thigh until you saw stars, and enjoy watching you for every second as he talked you through it.

“Then climb back up here and straddle my thigh, sweetheart, just like you were earlier.” He instructed you, his voice sounded a little strained even to his own ears.

“We’ll get caught…” You whimpered, clearly torn between what your body wanted and what your instincts told you was safe.

He shook his head.

“We’re not gonna break any rules.” He assured you, then clarified. “We’re not gonna break any club rules.”

Bureau rules on the other hand… He’d worry about that later.

“Are you sure?” You questioned, and he bit back a smirk, because you were already moving to get back in his lap.

That lack of restraint exhilarated him, and he itched to touch you, but knew he couldn’t if he wanted to make this work. So he balled his hands into fists and forced them to stay at his sides.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Yes.” You responded without hesitation.

“Do you want me?” He challenged, as you settled yourself with one knee between his legs and the other on the couch next to him, hovering just above him without putting any weight on him yet.

“Yes.” You breathed, and even though he barely heard it over the music, you sounded sure.

“Then I’m sure.” He grinned up at you, and you seemed to relax, finally resting a bit of your weight on his leg.

He laid his arms along the back of the couch, just to keep his hands off of you. You, of course, caught the movement immediately.

“Aaron you can touch me, I only said that because it's what I’m supposed to tell patrons.” Your voice had just a touch of a pleading tone.

“I know Sweetheart, but I’ve come to realize that I love to watch you. So what I want you to do right now is ride my thigh and make yourself fall apart on it.” He coaxed, and bit back a smile as, once again, your thighs tightened around his. “Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”

The little whimper you let out as you nodded your head almost changed his mind about not touching you. You liked it when he talked to you like that, he was certain now.

“That’s a good girl…” He praised, as you started to rock against him slowly. “Just like that. Use me baby.”

You moaned, so softly he almost missed it and he couldn’t allow that. He wanted to hear every single sound you made, no he needed it, like he needed oxygen.

“No one can hear you but me, sweet girl, so let me hear you.” He encouraged you as you started to work yourself a little harder against his leg.

You tipped your head back and moaned louder this time. Fuck, you looked so alluring like this, he thought, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back from this. He was positive that if he didn’t get to see you like this every single day for the rest of his life, that he would simply lose the will to live.

“So fucking pretty…” He murmured, taking you in, every perfect inch of you.

In that red set that was so stunning on you, you looked like a goddess. He wanted to thread his hands into your hair, to run them over your skin. He was certain that you would be the softest thing he would ever touch in his life and he couldn’t wait to test that theory. For now though, for now, he just wanted to bask in the moment. One that he had imagined so many times… a little differently than this… but it was perfect all the same, simply because it was you.

He knew that if he let himself touch you now, he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself, and judging by the way you were rocking frantically against him, you wouldn’t want him to either. But he didn’t want the first time with you to be in a strip club. That just wouldn’t do, not for you.

So he wouldn’t touch you, but he wouldn’t deny you this either.

“Look at you, looking so beautiful like this. I can’t wait to take you home and let you ride me, pretty girl.” He traced his eyes over your form and then hummed softly. “Take your top off for me sweetheart, I wanna see you bare.”

You shifted your weight a little to keep your balance—as if he would ever let you fall—then unhooked the clasp that lay between your breasts. You hesitated then, just for a moment, as though you were nervous.

“I don’t know why I’m nervous. It's nothing you—and the rest of the team—haven’t seen before.” You chuckled, but it was self deprecating and anxious.

He shook his head at you.

“The only ones who watched your performances were JJ and Garcia after that first night. Even then, Spencer and I left as soon as we realized what was happening. Morgan and Rossi have been waiting with SWAT the whole time, so they haven’t even seen you in lingerie. Prentiss has but only because she had to grab something out of the van, and the entire time all she could say was that you were incredible for someone who had only been doing pole work for two months.” He assured you. “So no Sweetheart, the whole team has not seen you like that, especially not me.”

That seemed to calm you a bit, and then without any further hesitation, you dropped the teddy to the floor.

Hotch lost all semblance of coherent thought.

The air in the room had been cold at first, but now it was soothing to your overheated skin. You felt like you were simmering. The music was still thumping through the room and the beat was making everything feel so… erotic.

To be fair it was.

The way Hotch was talking to you…

No one had spoken to you like this before, and you loved it.

And when he had told you to take your top off, Christ, you’d nearly passed out.

But now, as you let it fall to the floor, and you saw the effect it was having on him. You smiled.

He was drinking you in, his eyes dilated till they were nearly completely onyx, instead of the warm hazel you adored so much. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as though he were imagining the taste of you there.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He whispered under his breath. Then looked back up into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful. Touch yourself for me, pretty girl. Let me watch you come undone.”

Fuck indeed.

His voice was like a goddamn aphrodisiac, pushing you to let go of every single reservation and do exactly as he said.

So you did.

Dragging your hands up your thighs, to your stomach and then your breasts. Caressing and squeezing, your eyes on his face the entire time. All the while you continued to roll your hips against his thigh, the pressure building in your lower stomach was growing rapidly.

Hotch groaned, his hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white and you wanted to feel his hands on you so badly you couldn’t focus on anything but that.

“Aaron.” You whimpered. “Please, touch me. I want your hands on me so bad.”

“I know you do, pretty girl.” His voice rumbled through you, and a shiver went up your spine. “But you know I can’t do that, so if you wanna come then you’re gonna have to do it all by yourself.”

You whined, writhing against him, trying to create enough friction to finish the job. But there was just something missing.

“What if I can’t?” You keened, clutching his lapels and grinding faster.

“You can do it baby, I know you can.” He murmured.

“How do you know? You’ve never seen me like this before.” You pointed out, a little sassier than was probably necessary.

“No I haven’t.” He admitted. “But in the short time we’ve been here, I’ve noticed that you like the way I talk to you, you like being praised, and you like to please me. Don’t you?”

Your eyes shot wide and your mouth fell open.

“I- I uh-“ You stammered, at a loss for words.

He smirked at you. Not teasingly, not really, but it was very smug. “It was a simple yes or no question, sweetheart. Do you like those things?”

You nodded your head, because how else were you supposed to answer that? He had you in a vise with those gorgeous hazel eyes, so your verbal skills were sorely lacking at the moment.

“Then listen and do what I say, pretty girl.” He murmured, those eyes locked on yours with an intensity that burned through you like a hot knife through butter. “Slow down baby, find your rhythm for me.”

You stilled against his leg, then slowly started over again, rolling your hips in time with the music that was still pounding through the room like a heartbeat. A slow steady pulse.

“That’s my good girl, you look so beautiful like this, sweetheart.” He purred. “Look at yourself baby, look in the mirrors and see how striking you are right now.”

You felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, the way he was talking to you…. It made everything feel heightened somehow, you weren’t even sure if it was the words he was speaking, or his voice alone.

All you knew was that you didn’t want him to stop.

So you did what he asked, and looked at yourself.

He was right, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You looked so powerful. Sitting astride him like that with your chest bared to him. It didn’t look demeaning or subservient. You looked ethereal.

But what really stole your breath away, was the way he was looking at you, while you weren’t looking directly at him. It made your core tighten and your skin heat even further, until you felt like you might literally explode.

“There it is baby, I can see it written all over you.” He murmured.

“I feel like I’m gonna explode.” You whined, your legs tensing and your grip on his jacket nearly ironclad.

“I know, Sweetheart. You’ve gotta relax, just breathe through it and follow that feeling until you fall over the edge.” You coached gently. “You can do it, pretty girl. You’re almost there.”

You forced your muscles to release, your whole body melting into him as you rolled your hips against him steadily. You took deeper breaths, in your nose and out your mouth.

“Good job, baby. Just like that.” He cooed, his voice sounding more and more strangled every time he spoke.

You felt it building, could practically see the cliff coming, and you were so close to falling over it, you just needed… Something.

Your eyes started to flutter closed and your head tipped back.

“Don’t close your eyes, pretty girl. I want you looking right at me. Look at my eyes.” He instructed firmly, and your eyes snapped back to his. They were burning, the heat in them was palpable and you felt like you could read every single thought running through his head. “I wanna see it on your face when you come.”

That’s what finally did it. The unbearable tightness in your core exploded and spasmed violently.

“Aaron!” You moaned as your vision filled with colorful little spots.

“Good girl.” He hummed, the praise only spurring you on. “That’s it, come for me baby. Ride it out.”

You felt euphoric and then numbness settled in your limbs, making supporting your own weight feel impossible.

You collapsed against Hotch’s chest, your breath ragged and shallow. Your heart racing. Body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Are you alright?” He murmured in your ear after giving you a minute to bask in the moment.

“So much better than alright…” You sighed contentedly.

He chuckled softly and finally touched you, just to stroke your hair affectionately.

You hummed pleasantly and nestled in a little closer.

He tilted your chin up a bit so he could look at you, and he smiled.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks heat all over again, suddenly feeling bashful, even though you’d just ridden his thigh to completion.

“Thanks…” You mumbled, and you didn’t know what had gotten into you. Shyness wasn’t your style, you owned your choices and actions. Something about the way he was looking at you, though, it had the blood rushing to your face in force. “Should we uh… Should we maybe talk about why you’re here? Other than… that.”

“That?” He asked, his tone teasing enough that you knew he understood exactly what you meant. “Is ‘that’ what we’re calling it?”

You wouldn’t have thought your face could turn any redder, but apparently it could!

“I don’t know what we’re calling this,” You gestured between the two of you, “we can figure that out when the case is over. Right now I need to know what you came here to tell me.”

He chuckled softly, and brushed your hair back from your face. Then, checking to be sure you were shielded from the camera, he dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“I told you part of it already…” His smirk was going to stop your fucking heart, you were sure of it.

“Let’s just pretend you didn’t?” You suggested. Not wanting to admit that you’d forgotten because—well the why was pretty obvious.

He laughed again.

“That’s alright sweetheart. I’d probably forget too if I just came as hard as you did.” He murmured, his eyes were twinkling brighter than the goddamn stars you were sure.

You didn’t respond, instead you buried your face in his chest, hiding your embarrassment.

“Hey,” He murmured, tilting your face back up to his with his knuckle. “I was just teasing. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I know.” You whispered, and to be honest you had completely zoned out again because somehow… somehow, he was even prettier from this angle.

“How much time do we have left?” He asked.

You glanced at the timer you’d set on the sound system.

“About thirty minutes so we better get on it.” You said and started to lift yourself off his lap, to be at least a little less distracted.

“You’re fine where you are.” He said, freezing you in your tracks.

“Okay.” You breathed, barely.

So you sat on his lap and let him hold you as he told you every little detail of the intel they had gotten since your last call.

Then he went over it with you again, and then quizzed you on it. Until he was absolutely certain that you knew it by heart.

And then the timer went off, stopping the music.

It startled you both and you sighed reluctantly as you peeled yourself off his lap.

He stood and followed you to the door, but before you opened it he caught your hand.

”Aaron?” You questioned, glancing at the camera that could now see and hear everything.

“Sorry, I thought you stumbled.” He said smoothly. “Are you going to be alright? If you’re dizzy, maybe you should take the rest of the night off?”

Translation: Are you gonna be alright if I leave? Cause I’m not sure I will. I will pull you out the second you give me the signal that you need help.

You smiled at him sweetly.

“No sugar, I’m fine. Just caught my heel on the floor.” You assured him. “Thanks for catching me.”

In non cryptic terms: I’ll be okay, I know you have my back and you won’t let me get hurt. I’m not scared.

He searched your eyes for a second and then nodded, approving of whatever he found in them. So you opened the door.

The sounds of the busy club rushed back in as he followed you out into the chaos.

“Hey Vixen!” A male voice called out.

You froze, fear running down your spine. Surely they hadn’t read into that, or saw what was happening. All the girls rode men’s laps like that, granted they didn’t finish, but the bouncers wouldn’t have known that because you literally get paid to act like you’re getting off on it too.

Hotch nudged you gently, effectively sending you back into motion.

“Yeah?” You called looking in the direction of the voice.

It was the same bouncer as before, heading your direction.

“Hey I forgot to tell you that the camera in room one is down tonight, got a short in a wire or something. I don’t know. But if you go back in there tonight, scream or something if you need help.” He said nonchalantly as if that was the most inconsequential thing he would ever say in his life.

To him it probably was

You, however, were pissed. You could’ve ridden a whole lot more than just Aaron’s thigh.

“Thanks.” You muttered, he nodded and walked away.

“Try not to look so upset, Sweetheart.” Hotch murmured in your ear, sending the warmth of his breath straight to your clit—which was suddenly throbbing again. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities for everything you’re thinking about as soon as we wrap this case. I’ll make sure of it.”

Then he was gone, before you even managed to turn around, lost in the crowd. You only saw the back of his head as he exited the club.

part 2

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loveroffemmes · 1 month ago

Text

Past Curfew, Past Caring | Pre-Crash Natalie Scatorccio x Fem! Reader

warnings: smut, nat w/ a strap

summary: practice has been keeping natalie from being able to spend time with you, so she decides to climb up your window night and pay you a visit and you have a good idea for how to spend the rest of the night.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The Natalie Scatorccio classic, three pebbles to my window.

I open my window and look down, Natalie’s standing there, a pebble in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She drops the cigarette to the ground, putting it out underneath her boot. She smiles at me.

It didn’t take long before Natalie climbed up to my window, swinging her legs through the frame and entering.

“Do you have something against my front door?” I ask with a laugh.

“I thought your parents were home — I could’ve used the front door!?” Nat laughs at herself, her hands reaching for my waist. She puts her fingers through the loops of my jeans and pulls me right against her, “Whatever, I’m just happy to see you.” My arms instinctively wrap around her neck. She smells like cigarettes and vanilla.

“I’m just happy you decided on pebbles this time instead of putting a rock through my window.”

Nat blushes, “Shut up, (Y/n).” She playfully rolls her eyes, “It was one time and it’s not my fault that your window is so…weak?” I laugh and Nat grins triumphantly, as if my laughter were a reward she had won, "I missed you. I wish practice wouldn't keep me so late, but Coach insists since nationals is coming up."

"As long as I get you some of the time. Plus, I'm beyond proud of you for making it to nationals." Nat smiled wide. Sometimes I can't believe the girl I met because she would not stop leaning against my car when she smoked is in my room, nuzzling into my embrace. That's just how Natalie was; such a hard exterior, but so vulnerable and soft on the inside. When I first met her, I asked her to stop using my car as an arm rest for her after lunch smoke breaks and she put her cig out on my window. The next day, she came back and apologized, offering to take me to lunch. I don't know why I accepted the invitation, I just did. Natalie has a funny way of rooting into one's life, I couldn't really get rid of her after that lunch and she became apart of my regular routine. How I felt about her kind of snuck up on me one day and, before I realized, I was in love with her.

"So, what will it be tonight? Another one of your shitty (fav movie genre) or one of my very entertaining slasher films?"

"Hmm, even though a (fav movie genre), and not a slasher, sounds great, I had something else in mind." My hands move to the hem of Nat's shirt and she leans in to kiss me, already knowing my plan for tonight.

It didn't take long before Natalie broke apart the kiss to take off my shirt and her own. She was wearing that red bra of hers that she knows I love. Her hands moved to unclasp my bra, her mouth immediately following in suit. Her lips moving to my chest, leaving little marks wherever she could, mumbling how hot I was between each hickey. She was eager, unbuttoning her own jeans and taking them off as her lips never moved from my skin, "Need you right now, it's been too long." She mumbled against my skin.

She pulled away, quickly pulling my pajama pants down, "Nat, slow down." I say, laughing at her eagerness.

"It's been too long." She replies, her lips returning to my chest.

"It's been like two weeks, MAX!"

"Exactly, too long." She repeats again and I can't help but giggle at her eagerness, evident in both her words and her lips.

I cupped her face with my hands, bringing her face up to mine, "Natalie, can we try something?" I sheepishly ask.

Natalie raises an eyebrow, her eyes glancing down at my chest, already missing the feeling of me on her lips, "Sure, what were you thinking?"

I walk over to my drawer, "I bought something a week ago..." I pull the box out of my drawer and Nat moves so she's standing next to me.

"What is it?" She questions, taking it into her hands and opening the box, "A-A strap?" Her voice falters, clearly shy about what she realizes she was now holding.

"We don't have to try it if you don't want to--"

"N-No! I-I want to." Nat replies, a little too quickly perhaps (her mind playing all a bunch of different scenarios of her fucking you with it), "I've just...never...y'know..."

"I know, do you...do you want me to help you put it on?" Natalie's cheeks turn a dark shade of red and she nods. I take the harness out and Natalie steps into it, I tighten the leather around her hips and it fits perfectly against her boxers (Natalie in boxers is just too hot of a thought, sorry). I slide the dildo into the harness, adjusting it so it's tight enough. Natalie's eyes never leave my hands, watching as I touch the strap-on now attached to her hips, "Why don't we take it a little slow?" I ask, leading Natalie to my bed and instructing her to sit down. She does as I say and I get on my knees in front of her. Natalie's eyes widen as she watches me, her mouth agape.

"Are you sure..." Nat hesitantly begins to ask and I look up at her, her voice faltering at the sight of me on her knees in front of her, "...Y-You're okay with this?" I nod, moving my head forward to the base of the strap, licking from the base to the tip of the strap. Nat's eyes widen, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. I take the tip of the strap into my mouth, bobbing my head slightly. Nat's hands grip the sheets under her as she bites her lip even harder, clearly trying to hold herself back. I take the strap fully into my mouth, bobbing my head before pulling away and placing a kiss on the tip. Nat's hips buck and she moans, as if she could feel the action.

"Nat.." I place my hand over hers, her hands still bunching the sheet up with white knuckles, "You can let go a little. I don't mind if you're rough."

Nat's grip on the sheets loosen, "What if I hurt you, (Y/n)?" I smile at her, she's too cute sometimes.

"You won't, I promise." Natalie's hands let go of the sheets, "Why don't you guide my head? You can be as rough as you want."

"A-And you're sure..?"

"Yes, Nat, it won't hurt me." I guide Nat's hand to the back of my head and she gently pushes my head forward, towards the strap.

I lick the tip of her strap again and Nat's grip on my hair tightens. I can tell she's still struggling to fully let go. I look up at her, her mouth agape as she watches me. I take the tip into my mouth, sucking and licking it, but never going any further. Small moans escape Nat's lips as she watches me, it was if she could feel my tongue on her. She pushed my head down, her hand tightly entangled in my hair. With a slight moan around her strap, I allowed her to guide my head. Nat's hips began to buck as she held my head down, fucking my mouth. Her moans getting louder and louder as she watched me, the site almost too much for her, "Your mouth feels so fucking good." Nat moans out. Her hips bucking incessantly, "Just like that...good girl..." She doesn't let up, not even for a second, her thrusts into my mouth remaining fast and rough, "I-I need more, (Y/n)." Nat pulled my head up, her strap leaving my mouth, "I need you."

Nat pulled me onto her lap, her lips meeting mine in an instant. Her hands were desperate and roaming, grabbing and groping any part of me that she possibly could. Her hips moving slightly, the strap moving perfectly between my thighs. I grab onto her shoulders, rocking my hips slightly. Nat's eyes moved down to my hips, entranced in the way her strap looked covered in my wetness, "Mm, Natalie." I softly moan into her ear.

Natalie's eyes snap back up to mine, "Can I?" The words come out desperate and rushed, as if she would simply pass away if she did not fuck me at this very moment. I nod and Nat's nails dig into my hips, lowering me down on her strap on with one hand and grabbing the base of it with her other hand, lining it up perfectly. I sink onto her strap, Nat waits to move, "Does it hurt? Are you okay?" She asks, kissing my temple and loosening her grip on my hip.

I nod, nuzzling my head into the side of her neck, "It's..it's really big...that's all."

I can hear Natalie swallow, "You're going to kill me, you know that?" She mutters, her face red. I shift on her lap slightly, signaling for her that it's okay to move. Natalie begins thrusting into me, slowly, helping me adjust to the size. Her hand moves off the base of the strap, her finger trailing up my stomach and stopping, "Do you feel it here?" She asks, pushing down on my lower abdomen with her finger, and I nod, "You're taking it so well." She breathes, her pace picking up. Both her hands move to my ass, cupping it as she uses her new grip on me to help move me up and down on her length, "So tight." She drawls, moaning as if she could feel every single thrust into me.

"It feels so good, Natalie." That does it for her, her thrusts are rougher now, her grip on me tight as her hips jerk up. I rolled my hips against hers and Nat whined. Her strap hit my g-spot perfectly and whenever I rolled my hips, the base of it would press right against my clit. It didn't take long before my thighs were trembling, Nat noticing immediately and quickening her pace, I could feel the heat coiling in my stomach as Nat thrusted into me.

"Cum on my strap." Natalie practically begs, her eyes darting between my face and the view of her strap being buried in me -- not sure which is the better sight. Natalie's words were all I needed, I grinded down on her strap once more before I came, hard. It felt like all I could say was Natalie's name (which she absolutely loved). Her thrusts slowed and she moved her hands to my back to hold me and keep me stable on top of her. I slumped onto her and Nat held me, tracing soft circles along my back, "Good girl." She cooed, "You did such a good job, (Y/n)." She lifted my hips, taking her drenched strap out of me and I whined at how empty I felt. She laid down with me on her chest, both of us catching our breath, "I love you, (Y/n)." She breathlessly said.

"I love you too, Nat." She smiled, a content sigh leaving her lips as she pulled me even closer against her.

"Can we go again?"

Masterlist

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sook9i · 1 year ago

Text

— NAKED IN MANHATTAN

⋆｡°✩ After a drunk conversation leads you to question your feelings for your bandmate and friend, Hueningkai, maybe a night together in Manhattan is just what you need to clear the air.

. . . GENRE ! Hueningkai x reader | smut | fluff | friends to lovers

. . . CONTAINS ! virgin!kai, virgin!reader, 6th member!reader, afab!reader, talks of virginity, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, swearing, loss of virginity, unrealistic first time? (not that i would know), no established dynamics, fingering, protected sex 🙏, some aftercare, a little too much foreplay, consent checks, kinda just porn with plot, the other members tease them about their virginity (don’t do that)

. . . WORD COUNT ! 4660

. . . NOTES ! i’ve been writing this for,,,literally ever and i’m so glad it’s finally done !! this is inspired by naked in manhattan by chappell roan however considering that it’s a sapphic love song i’m still kinda unsure if i’m going to keep the title of it for this fic. if anyone has any opinions let me know!! anyways i hope you enjoy!!

. . . ADMIN ! written by callie 😼

Bright lights twinkle across the floor like stars. You can’t see the real stars up in the sky, but you make do with the high-rises lighting up the horizon. Cars beep and blare their horns stories below you. This sweet symphony fills the cold, empty hotel room like a lullaby. However, it isn’t really empty. You’re there, staring out across the Manhattan skyline. Kai’s there, just there behind a closed door in the bathroom. Bare only for the comforting hot water of the shower he was in. He’s there, racing through your thoughts like always. Around and around; an ever-looping track of vice. This boy, your friend, your bandmate, driving you crazy just by standing beyond a wall.

This isn’t exactly how you imagined spending a night in New York City. The rest of the boys took full advantage of the free night. Taehyun had wanted to explore, last you heard he was in Time Square. Beomgyu and Yeonjun had gone out to get some dinner and god only knows where they ended up, now five hours later.

Soobin, on the other hand, was the reason you ended up in this position. Having approached you after your radio show taping and apologetically begging you to let him have the single hotel room for the night. And how could you say no? You cared for your members, and your leader especially seemed like he could use a night with just himself. He was probably spread-eagle on the hotel bed, 5-steps deep into his skincare routine right now, and watching whatever show he’s been raving about for the past week; probably having the time of his life. However, when you agreed to give up your room, you failed to think about the implications. You didn’t consider that you’d now be rooming with whoever Soobin had left behind. You didn’t even think about how he usually roomed with Hueningkai. Not a single thought passed through your head, except sweet old sympathy for your leader. Now, you were considering disavowing kindness for the rest of your life because of where that nice gesture landed you.

You heard the water shut off in the bathroom like the final clock strike right before midnight. Face embarrassingly hot, you keep your back to the door as it opens. New light slants across the floor, fluorescent and harsh. It mingles with the soft rush of humidity into the room and claws at your pajamas. Begging you to turn, to look, to face the perpetual inhabitant of your dreams. You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up simply hearing him shuffle around behind you. Still, your blood ran hotter, building up in your cheeks and neck.

You’ve had your fair share of innocent crushes over time, including the one you’ve harbored for Huening over the past 4 years. However, none ever left you feeling like this. This disoriented, this flustered, this desperate despite actively trying to dismantle your feelings for months now. He’d manage to send you tumbling back down, head over heels, in one quick night. Just the thought of his voice, the way the words came to him so easily, kept you spiraling.

The night’s high spirits had long settled down. Celebrating the start of your world tour with drinks and food had kept the mood quite energetic. Now, spread out on the dorm floor, nursing a half-empty soju bottle, you find yourself prattling off to silence.

“Sooo…what are you guys most excited for in America?”

Yeonjun snorts from the couch above you, “You sound like every American interview we do.”

“Okay, well…you can be like 100% completely honest with me.”

“I wanna try some cool food and drinks or something.” Beomgyu jumps in, “Like the themed ones from specialty bars that people always post.”

The oldest hums in agreement, “It would be pretty nice to go out one night.”

“We’re in New York for a few days, I’m pretty sure we have an open night there.” Soobin pipes in, curled up in the couch corner.

“Maybe I’ll go visit the Lego store.”

A sudden chorus of laughter erupts at your words. Struggling to sit up, you frown at all the amused faces now in view.

“What’s so funny, assholes?”

“Y/nnie, you should get out more.” The words coming from Beomgyu were almost hypocritical.

“You’re one to talk! And, yeah, that’s why I’d go shopping.”

“We mean, like, get out and meet people. A different country is a great place for that, especially for us.” Taehyun sits in an armchair taking a slow sip from his can, “Go out, have a fun night, and just make sure they sign an NDA afterwards.”

Another round of laughter strikes up and it dawns on you what they’re actually talking about. Your face feels hot and a pout stretches on your lips.

“You guys all suck! I told you, it’ll happen when it happens.” You cross your arms, almost whining like a child, “Why don’t you ever tease Huening about this? I’m not the only virgin in the group!”

Yeonjun snorts, “Damn, way to throw Kai under the bus.”

“Wait, no,” You frantically turn your head around to his seat behind you. “Huening, I didn’t mean-”

He breaks a small smile, “It’s okay, Y/n, I get what you meant.”

“We’re, like, virginity pals.” You stupidly bump your shoulder into his which elicits a very awkward laugh.

“Let’s talk about something else.”

Beomgyu is quick to the draw, immediately beginning to ramble on about his latest meet-up with Jeongin. You don’t get a chance to catch much of it as lips brush along your ear.

“You know, if you ever want to fix that, you can just ask me.” His voice is low and even, his breath leaves goosebumps along your neck. The words swim up and around your head, wiping away some of the haze; snapping you into a brief sense of clarity to process what he just said. You feel your heart almost sputter to a stop. Unable to choke out a response, you turn to look at him only to find cold air. Huening is up and away in the kitchen getting another drink, leaving you alone and flustered. Caught in his words’ web like a helpless fly.

They’ve been plaguing you since their utterance 5 days ago. Orbiting your brain like an ever-present moon. Driving you so far up the proverbial wall that, once you come back down, you will surely die on impact. You’ve never felt this confused, wondering if he meant what he said, if he even remembered it. Perhaps you were driving yourself insane over something inconsequential to him. How were you going to survive this night?

“You wanna watch a movie?”

So easily, he has you trapped. You have to face him, face this, and act completely normal. Act like your thoughts haven’t been full of him; the things you’d let him do to you and the things you’d do to him in return. Act like the way water drips from the edges of his hair, tracing his bare collar, isn’t driving you mad. Wet spots decorate the thin, white shirt stretched across his shoulders. It sticks to the vaguely visible skin trailing down his torso. A pair of sweatpants hang dangerously low off his hips, you struggle to bring your eyes away back up to his face. There his face is soft, head tilted and eyes crinkled, expecting an answer. You want to shrivel beneath his sweet gaze.

“I-um, yeah, sure. W-what movie?”

“Oh, I don’t really know. I was just going to see what’s streaming, maybe order some room service.” He drops a laptop onto his bed. Crawling atop the sheets, he flips it open and looks back at you. Waiting, expectant. His hand softly pats the duvet beside him and you have nowhere to run.

The sheets are standard fare for a hotel and the mattress is stiff as you sit. You’re practically almost hanging off the edge trying to keep a safe distance from Kai. If your skin so much as brushed his, you’d be broken. You weren’t willing to risk bumping knees. If he thinks it odd, he doesn’t say anything. Looking at the screen, he’s now scrolling through a bunch of movie options. Title after title flys by. Two of his fingers push along the mouse pad. The muscles of his hand twitch with every movement; veins shifting, knuckle tucking in and out. From fingertip to wrist his hands are huge, probably enough to completely cover your face. His fingers especially, are very long, so thin-cut and delicate. It can only make you wonder just how deep they could reach. If he knew how to really use them.

You feel your brain melting into a cesspool of depravity the longer you’re around him. Squeezing your eyes tight, the thoughts barely dissipate. Although, you’re granted a small peace as he picks your mind with something else.

“How about Spider-man?”

“Hm?” Peeking back at the screen, his cursor had landed on a Spider-Verse movie. Although, you didn’t really know which one. Your head feels so cotton-stuffed, you simply nod without a thought. So he clicks on the card to play. Opening credits roll in and you fall further into the static. This movie should’ve been the perfect distraction, something exciting and enjoyable. However, the soft heat of the boy curled beside you permeates your skin like a fever. It’s no use, you can’t fight the speed of your heart. The blood rush through your ears takes up everything in the room. Eyes, laser focused to the laptop screen, yet mind somewhere far away. So far you don’t notice the sound of the movie stopping suddenly.

“Y/n?”

Kai’s knee softly bumps yours as he faces you. It’s like a lightning strike right to the chest. Heartbeat rocketing, your words get jumbled. “Wha-um-what?”

“I…Is something wrong? Did I do something?” He avoids eye contact, hands twisting up.

“N-no, no-um, Huening…what’s up?”

“I just…I feel like you’ve kinda been avoiding me? His eyes slowly drag up to your face. “Like, you won’t even look at me.”

All you can hear is the blood rushing over your chest and cheeks, it’s all you can see as well. Kai’s eyebrows are knit together in an expression that should not be nearly as hot as your overdriven brain thinks it is. The words jumble up in your throat, a 4-year confession and a week-long confessional-in-the-making. Your brain goes blank. Everything seems to spill out.

“I-I’m not…upset. I’m-Kai-it’s um, just…do…do you remember that conversation we had…like the night of the first show?” Your stomach twists, ready to eat itself up in embarrassment.

“Um, maybe…” His eyes flit around as if trying to grasp the memory from the air. Brows draw in tighter before he stills. A chill settles between you two. His face explodes in Saharan heat. “Oh god.”

The realization fills up the room with its horrible heated mortification. Your head hangs, guilt pooling in your lap.

“Oh-oh god, Y/n, I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry! I should’ve never said that, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m so sorry-”

“No-no, you-you didn’t. I just-” You bury your head in your hands. Your cheeks burn the skin like a radiator, your heart feels like a supernova. The room is caving in on you. This wall you’d built up, a protective shell around your fragile heart, crumbled. The words taste sour on your tongue. “Did…did you mean it…what you said?”

Silence sinks into your bones, shriveling under the weight of your humiliation. You can’t bring yourself to look at Huening. You want to run, hide, jump off the roof, but you're stuck to the mattress; to the darkness of your eyes; to his sharp intakes of air.

“I did.” An angry red flush covers his face and a pillow now covers his lap. His voice and eye contact remain steady, nonetheless.

The room is too small, too hot. You need to crawl out of your skin and cool off, but the words just keep coming.

“S-so…if I wanted to-um-take you up on your offer…”

Your hands fist the sheets fitfully, you can’t meet his eyes beneath the weight of your shame. This is all you have thought about for the past week, and, suddenly living in your fantasy, you feel like a creep.

The touch of soft fingertips brushing over your jaw jolts to your already frayed nerves. He turns your gaze up to his. Something deep and unfamiliar has settled in his eyes; a darkness that bores right down into that depraved nest in your heart.

Somehow, his voice keeps calm, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please-“ You can't finish the word before you’re silenced. Smooth, honey plush lips blanket yours, like something out of a daydream. The first sensation to hit is his taste: mint toothpaste and vanilla chapstick; you have to fight the urge to bite at his lip for more. Your crossed-knees touch, bodies leaning forward to meet in the middle. Your noses knock and bump awkwardly before you settle into a rhythm. He borders an intense line between inexperienced eagerness and hesitant care. Keeping your hands firm at your sides, unsure how to move, he runs his fingers up and over your arms, coaxing them to cradle the nape of his neck. In turn, he does the same.

He unravels you. The rigid rod holding back your shoulders dissipates; fingers curl into the soft, still damp hair at the base of his neck. A sigh pulls at your lips as you lose yourself to this building heat. Slowly, inhibition slips away. You find yourself moving with an unprecedented fervor. Kai leans further into you, tilting your head back to his will, nails scratching deftly at your scalp. A conflicting pain trembles over your skin, swirling with an untapped pleasure until the two are indistinguishable. He pulls a jolting gasp from your chest. The sound which follows, you can only categorize as embarrassing. A strangled sort of noise; something long built-up, catching in your throat and struggling out in a breathy whine. Your face flares up, you wanna disappear as Kai pulls away slightly. Softly, his breath hitches. Creaking open your eyes, you’re met with a sight that almost drags the sound out again.

Kai’s eyes, half-lidded and dark, bore down on you, haloed with pink, heated cheeks. His lips are kiss-bitten red and glossy. A wet dream come true. You tug him back to your lips, a new heat building in the kiss.

You aren’t sure who makes the first move, who bites first, but when his tongue pushes up against yours, you succumb fully to this new feeling filling you up. An unfamiliar greed beats in your chest, a rabid craving for more. More and more sounds mingle between both of you, unabashedly. With every sweet whine of Kai’s, the hunger grows. Your fingers tug at his hair, his press hard into your waist. Air is inconsistent and unnecessary.

“Kai-” Lips keep moving against yours. “More.”

“Can I-”His hands fumble around your waist a bit, mouth still keeping in time. “Your shirt.”

You begin nodding without even thinking about it. Finally, you break from each other. His hands hike your shirt up your chest before you peel the rest off. You move to do the same for him but he’s already ahead of you. His shirt comes up and over his head before being tossed alongside yours. The porcelain skin of his chest lays out before your eyes. Heart beat picking up, you trace each ridge and jut and mole back up to meet his gaze, one just as entranced as you are.

As your lips meet again, they move with much more care. Something deep and unspoken swimming on your lips and stirring up your chest. Fingers drift gently over freckles and goosebumps running up both your sides. Your back melts into the mattress; Huening’s intoxicating touch burning up your brain. His hands glide up and circle your chest softly. Brushing the sensitive, supple skin, more whimpers tumble out. Your hands copy his, nails dragging faintly down his soft stomach. His lips shudder against yours, breathing groans over your tongue. Knees sit on either side of your hips, keeping Kai’s body hovering precariously over you. The tantalizing promise of his weight above you draws your fingers lower. Just a fingertip dipping into the waistband of his sweatpants. The hitch in his breath is slight.

The kiss disconnects once again as you look at each other, drinking in the sight. His hair mused back wildly and eyes blown wide, a million emotions fly between you. Keeping your eyes locked, that curious hand of yours hesitantly slips from its place. Pulling out of Kai’s waistband, it snakes atop the fabric, coming to cup the prominent bulge beneath it. Your heart stutters at the heavy feeling of him in your hand. Kai’s eyes widen infinitesimally. Your curious fingers squeeze softly and you watch as the last bits of his composure crumble. Head dropping into your neck, his moan is guttural and desperate. His hips buck further into your palm and it becomes incredibly apparent just how big he is

“God-y/n, please…” The desperation with which he speaks your name, the whine and groan and guttural need pouring from his throat, finally breaks you.

For a moment, the only thought running through your head is how quickly you can get his sweatpants off. He seems to be thinking the same as his fingers pluck at your own waistband. However, as you’re about to give in, something stops you.

“Kai…” Embarrassment floods your face, “Do you…have a condom?”

His eyes widen, jaw dropping softly. A subtle red paints his cheeks as he slowly crawls off your body.

He awkwardly shuffles over to his bag on the floor before pulling out a small box of condoms. “I-I wasn’t, like, planning on using them. Or anything…Yeonjun-hyung put them in my bag…”

“Well, thank god for Yeonjun, I guess.”

Laughter eases the embarrassed tension as he rips open the packaging. Although he hesitates to take out the latex. You eye the clothes still covering both your bottom halves.

“I-I can…take mine off first. If you want?”

He matches your gaze, moving back towards the bed, “Are you-Do you want this? Like, 100%?”

“Yes.” Your head nods before you can even think about it, “Yeah, I-I do. Do you?”

“Yes.”

Leaning up, your lips meet his in a soft, sweet kiss. You slowly take his hand in yours and move it back down to your hip, to the bare skin beneath your waistband. Then, you tug your shorts down with his fingers. Finally, fully unclothed, you muscle through the timidity to open your eyes. The pure reverence in his face nearly calms your beating heart.

“Kai, please. Touch me.”

Huening makes quick work of his own bottoms. They pool at his ankles though your eyes are glued to the way his cock smacks against his stomach. He rolls the smooth latex down his skin and your eyes follow with a shiver. Even with little-to-no frame of reference, you’re all too aware that he’s big. Standing at the edge of the bed, towering over you, he is just as entranced with you as you are with him. Any room for embarrassment melts away into an unrelenting need.

You yank him back and his lips messily onto yours; tongues mingling and meshing. His fingers wisp up your bare thighs, sparking a lingering electricity. Your mouth lands on his neck with kisses and kitten licks. The breathy groan you pull from him with a soft bite sounds like heaven. Hands move further toward the inside of your thighs, brushing over your core. He fumbles for a moment before you reach to take his hand in yours. Awkwardly, you guide two slender fingers up to your clit, starting them in a circle motion. Your back arches into the feeling, head sinking into the pillows. Huening watches your reactions diligently, slowly gaining more confidence in his movements. The fingers slip away from the nub as one of them trails down to cautiously push into you. It takes a moment for the odd stretch to settle and melt into pleasure, but as your hips buck into his hand, Kai takes the hint. He uses his thumb to keep circling your clit while experimentally curling two fingers against your walls. This foreign pleasure is overwhelming and not enough.

“I-is this okay?”

Your voice feels stuck so you nod enthusiastically, eyes screwed tight. Fingernails dig into Kai’s scalp as you frantically pull him back to your lips. You work your tongue over his lips and onto his. Running your teeth down his jaw into the juncture of his neck, you litter the skin with soft bites. Lost in the pleasure, your movements feel crazed; desperate. That ever-looming climax is so close yet so far. You need it, like oxygen.

“Need more. Need you, please-please, Hyuka-”

Emptiness only fuels your desperation. Kai’s hips shift squarely over yours as his hand moves up between your bodies. His hard cock brushes your oversensitive thighs; the fog in your mind thickens. In the haze, you take Huening’s, now messy, hand into your mouth, licking over the fingers and tasting yourself on them. They tickle at the back of your throat, freeing a pleased hum.

Kai’s poor cock twitches against your leg and his chest stutters as you keep two lidded eyes on his. The fingers slip from your lips with a slight pop. His agape mouth falls onto yours, devouring your taste on your own tongue. That spit-slick hand guides his weeping tip down through your folds. It catches on your clit and teases your entrance. A gasp breaks your mouths apart. Kai’s fluttering breaths paint your cheeks.

“I-I’m gonna…can I…?”

“Hyuka, just fuck me. Please.”

“Oh-okay-uh, tell-tell me when to move.”

With a deep breath, his hips begin pushing into yours. The stretch sets in; a fire rippling between your legs. Like being ripped apart while still getting stitched back together. A contradicting pain, spreading slowly with Kai’s hesitation. He breathes sickly sweet whimpers into your ears and cradles your hands with his. They mingle in the sheets; an echo of heaven. It’s nearly enough to distract you from the pain as he bottoms out.

“F-fu-shit-ah…you-you’re so…” His forehead hits your shoulder, punctuated with fluttering kisses. “…amazing.”

Pain subsides steadily in a flurry of sensations. The excruciating stretch melting into numbing pleasure. Kai’s touch and affection; everything about him surrounding you everywhere. His heat pressed into your skin, his breath mixed with yours, your hearts beating in tandem as you join completely. You are full of him, of love for him, of need for him. Like you’ve pushed all the air out of your body to make more room for him. Every part of you yearns for everything he has to give.

“Kai-god-” You gasp out. “Y-you can move.”

Shakily, he draws his hips back. You feel every ridge and vein run along inside you. And when he pushes back in, your chests shudder in unison; moans and groans filling the hotel room. He continues slowly; falling into overwhelming pleasure. It muddles your thoughts and weighs down your tongue. And—when Kai’s sloppy thrusts settle into an eager, consistent pace—it numbs your mind in ecstasy.

The room devolves into heady grunts and sharp whines echoing in your ears. A mantra of his name builds—a plead, an oath, a prayer—spilling from your heart, coating your lips. Huening answers the call, swallowing your desperation with his own. You lose yourselves in each other. In the heat of your skin and lips meeting recklessly again and again. You need him closer, deeper; filling up your lungs and pumping through your veins. He wants more. Fingerprints and hickeys litter their way down your body at his discretion. His teeth sink in your shoulder, your nails scratch down his back. It’s instinctual and awkward, yet perfect.

The whirlwind in your stomach grows stronger, closer and closer to imploding. You felt yourself teetering, standing on the edge of an unfamiliar precipice. With his breath and pace picking up, it seemed Kai was right there as well. His hand detached from its bruising placement on your hip. Moving his thumb over your clit in deft circles, an extra jolt of pleasure arcs up your spine.

“K-kai, there-please, please, please.” His name tumbles out in whimpers, as does to yours from his lips.

“F-fuck-close-I’m-” A shudder runs through his body, his pace becoming sloppy and erratic. His finger keeps tight to your clit. Your lips clash as the bubble between you pops.

White explodes behind your eyelids. Mind-numbing pleasure fills your every limb. You’re floating on bliss like you’ve never experienced and everything else falls away. Except for Kai. He surrounds you, he fills your lungs and makes you whole. His weak whimpers and moans trail off in your ears like the sounds of heaven. His hips keep moving, stopping jerkily as pleasure seeps into overstimulation. Kai’s arms buckle trying to keep his full body weight off you. He rolls off of you, landing on his back.

Silence fills the air in the aftermath. You exchange heavy breaths, staring off at the ceiling. As the high slowly fades, so does the fog in your head. Realization settles sharp in your bones. Dread and elation stir in your stomach, brewing a dangerous cocktail of words.

“I like you.”

Huening sits up a little, “Huh?”

“I…god, I’m so sorry-” You pull yourself up and look back down at the man, turning the words over in your head until they spill out. “Kai, I really really like you…I have for the past 4 years! And I know this is probably a horrible time to be saying this, but I just…I don’t want this to ruin us or-or the group and I-”

“Y/n! Y/n…” He pulls your hands into his. A bright smile splits his cheeks, shining on your face. “I really like you too.”

Air collapses in your chest, soft and scared. “…R-really?”

His eyes shine and melt into raspberry cheeks with an eager nod. “I didn't mean for it to come out like this, but…”

“Maybe you should get tipsy more often.” Both of you spill over with giddy giggles. A brand new kind of ecstasy fills up your chest, beating in time with Kai’s heart.

“Maybe…”

Your heartbeat speeds, building with each passing second as you look at Huening. Sweet chocolate eyes you could drink in, overindulge, and just never stop. And they look right back at you with the same adoration that’s pumping through your veins.

“I’ll, uh, go get a towel so we can clean up.” Kai shifts off bed, disappearing into the bathroom to discard the condom. He returns with a warm towel, as promised, and begins to gently wipe up your thighs, staying cautious around your still-sensitive folds. The heat soothes some of the worse marks littering your skin, combined with Kai’s delicate kisses over them.

After he works his way up, he ends with your lips. You move in harmony, swapping sweet giggly pecks, fitting together like perfect puzzle pieces. The way his hands cradle your cheeks—all encompassing, trapping their heat—feels like home. Neither of you can contain the joy flooding your faces with huge smiles. They remain even as he pulls away.

“Can we still finish that movie?”

“Sure, hyuka.”

Peace fills the space between you. Love wrapping around and around, building and keeping you safe in its embrace. The world melts away leaving only this room, this moment, the breaths shared between you, the heat of your bare skin melding into his. Curling together beneath the sheets, you bask in it; this revelation of reciprocated love. For a moment, nothing exists beyond you and Kai among the Manhattan skyline.

#txt smut #txt x reader #txt imagines #huening kai x reader #huening kai smut #kpop smut #cw smut #hueningkai smut #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai fanfic #txt fanfic #kpop fanfic #tomorrow x together #text — 🐱#hueningkai

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deniable-masterpiece · 7 months ago

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fusillade | dad!chris evans x son!reader

a/n — okay, i want to start by saying that this has FARTS. if you don’t like that, please, do not read‼️ scrolling is free, let people live, hate will be deleted and not tolerated, etc etc. i waited posting this for the longest time because i haven’t written anything like this before officially and it’s a relatively new kinky exploration. can be reader as any era of Chris, i just imagined him with some sort of beard and dilf look to him since he’s a father in this

summary — Chris tries to enjoy his day off but it doesn’t start the way he expected. The downsides of raising a teenage son lead to some weird resolutions of conflict.

warnings — age gap, incest, farts, face riding, face sitting (chris sitting on reader). 18+ only.

words — 5.8k

oh also, in case you missed it this has farts farts farts farts farts farts farts aaaaaaand some incest oh and farts too. enjoy!

Monday mornings weren’t fun for anyone. The harsh sunlight passing through anyone’s window is the sign of a long day to come, the first light of many fires that start and would continue to burn throughout the week. Even your blackout curtains couldn’t change today’s sunshine. Everything seemed to be in order, the sun had risen, your alarms had gone off at every time they were supposed to, without fail, at their projected volume. The only thing that was out of place in the typical morning routine was you. Your blaring alarms made no difference because they didn’t keep the key part of your morning routine—you—in the loop. Still in dreamland, you enjoyed the wondrous world.

But on the other side of the thin walls in your home, your dad had been rudely woken up on his day off to the sound of your alarm. For fifteen minutes, it rang continuously. It would fade out occasionally, but every five or so minutes, it would return to its loudest volume. And just when he thought it was over, your next alarm would start the cycle over again. It was a closed loop that you had yet to close. He tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. No one wakes up to their first alarm, not when they’re an active night owl, and they usually don’t wake up to their second. Chris knew that your most active hours of the night were past eleven p.m. On the few times that he did stay up late—usually on the eve of his days off—he heard you take multiple trips to the bathroom from inside his own bedroom until he heard the water from the sink running. The last time you used the sink, it would always run longer than the other times because you were usually doing your nightly routine and needed a steady flow. He always laughed at your antics, because they were something he would have to figure out on his own since you would never tell him. For all the times you called him an “old man,” his hearing never really let him down.

Now he wish it had, he wished his hearing loss would accelerate until he became deaf in the same way that the coffee he sipped at would accelerate his process of waking up. He thought that, maybe, just maybe, getting up early on his day off would be the key to enjoying it. He could drown out your sound with last night’s football game or catch up on that show you kept pestering him to watch. He was already enjoying the brief time in which he didn’t have to wear any clothes beyond a pair of boxers. The cool air tickled his body, unfamiliar but not unknowing of the feeling of being able to walk around while freely exposed to the cool air flowing through the house. He felt the need to wear more clothes that he normally might because you got easily distracted by him, more than two dudes living in one empty house should be making you feel. And you tended to stare or fail to get to the point when he was standing before you in his boxers. Chris naively thought it might be because you’re intimidated by his physique, that you haven’t quite reached the same levels of “man” yet and seeing him be so confident with what he naturally had was making you feel insecure. So, for his boy’s sake, he covered up. Being this close to naked was just one thing to enjoy about being awake before you, and maybe there would be more to come, Chris hoped. But no. The annoyingly vibrant alarm tone that echoed from your room was impossible to escape from. Even in the kitchen, down the carpeted stairs and anything in the thick flooring couldn’t stop him from hearing it. The sound itself wasn’t as loud as when he was laying in bed, but it had gotten on his nerves for daring to repeat again. The sonorous, pulse-like ringing matched his quickening heartbeat. It made his coffee-stained teeth grit, he felt like he could easily squeeze the ceramic mug in his hands to bits at the first chime of another alarm going off. One that would last for another fifteen minutes, one that was bound to play again after he waited for this successive round to end.

He swished the last of his typical dark, bitter roast around his mouth before swallowing it, letting it be the warmth soothing his throat that he so desperately wanted to let bile rise from. His stomach flipped with his anger, he was ready to say some unsavory things to you about needing to be more responsible. Even while barefoot, his steps were heavy and hit the carpeted stairs hard. Maybe that would wake you up, but he didn’t know if anything could. All he knew was that your alarm needed to be silenced, and somehow, he could wake you up another way.

On his way to your room, heading to the third door on the left, he saw the door to the bathroom right before it. His stomach twisted and rumbled, already feeling the motions of coffee running through him, but anger made it to shore first and crashed into the front of his head. That damn alarm needed to be turned off.

Chris came into your room wearing a pair of plaid boxers. Deep, navy blue, a size too small for him but that’s how everything seemed to fit even if it was a size up. His figure seemed to show no matter what he wore. His boxers were far from loose, being weighed down by his overfilled pouch for his crotch in the front, the single-button fly keeping the fabric from splitting down the sewn-in gap and letting his girth and balls spill out. And in the back, his oceanic boxers had their limits and Chris’ plump ass bobbed in them. They constantly gave him a wedgie, the fabric digging deep into his crack and his thighs being mostly exposed since the boxers couldn’t even fall low enough, functioning more like boxer-briefs as a result. Grey and black stripes formed squares over the deep blue color, little white squares filling in the middle of each square the intersectional lines made. The lines curving over his cheeks, they were like a netted stress ball. One squeeze and all that fat would just slip through your fingers.

Your hands were the perfect shape to cup something as round and doughy as his ass, sleeping face-up with both arms splayed out in irregularly polar directions. At the bend of your elbows, one pointed towards the headboard above you and the other reached out to your phone. Chris would have taken a picture of that moment—your head turned away from the incoming sunshine and nestled into your pillow, something he would have thought put Sleeping Beauty to shame… while you would have blabbered on about how out of it you look, quick to use the excuse that you can’t control how you sleep to justify why you look so “horrible.” But that word wouldn’t have been the first to come to your dad’s mind when he looked at you. Quickly, his anger towards you goes from a raging sea to a slowly ebbing current. You’re just his baby boy, he could never stay mad at you for getting your beauty sleep! Your phone on the other hand… that nuisance still remained wretched and horrible. It was the cause of all your horrible behavior, like a friend who’s a bad influence, except there is no one else to blame when it caters to you. Chris would have to do the same thing he does to people who harm his boy.

He picked up your phone off the night stand next to your bed. It has been vibrating so much that it was halfway sticking off the stand and would have fallen during the next alarm.

Chris’ thumb hovered over the snooze button. Maybe if he put an irregular break in your alarm’s incessant blaring, it would throw your mind off schedule. An untimed noise would no doubt work in startling you awake. But, he was already in your room. He might as well do it himself, even if he expected you to act like an adult by now and get yourself up and ready. As much as it pained him to admit, this was one of the things he wished you didn’t need him for anymore. He knew that he would be greeted with an annoyed “Daaaaad” and complaining from your end instead of just thanking him for doing what you couldn’t. No, he could already hear the whining in his head that you were “just about to get up,” and that he “never gave you a chance to prove him wrong.”

He hit the stop button, setting that alarm in stone as being done and over with. But what if there were more? He had just sat through two painfully long alarms that managed to wake him up but not you, and then a third from downstairs. If he was going to leave you here, he might as well enjoy a moment of peace and quiet by turning off the rest. Chris went to unlock it and was met with the screen asking for a passcode with a set of numbers appearing, showing that he needed to input a six-digit code to get into your phone. He could have just taken your phone and turned them off as they went, but he knew that if you woke up and saw that your phone was gone, he would have to deal with the complaints about that. Maybe you’d accuse him of snooping, and if he could guess your passcode, he might do it just to see what his boy is up to.

He would have to figure out what the password is, though. Six digits… Chris took a moment to think about it before trying birthdays. Those were common, he used your birth year as his own passcode when you berated him for leaving it without one for the longest time. Maybe you used your own birthday as your password, but it wouldn’t prove to be that easy. The numbers appeared at the top of the screen as he entered them in and just as he finished putting them in, they shook from side to side in error, like the device was shaking its head at him for being so wrong. By nature, he immediately went to the next one in his mind—his. 061381, that was the passcode! He was shocked that you had been so subtly kind to him by making his birthday the password, you remembered.

The lock screen faded to the back as rows and rows of apps and folders cluttered and congregated in front of it. He snickered at some of the folder names being things like “dumb shit” and one folder simply named: “fuck.” His eyes landed on the clock app after a quick scan of your rough home screen—it was nothing like his, his remained the stock layout of all the apps that came with his phone, all still in their original spots with the varying addition of the few apps he needed like banking and the one for the video doorbell installed outside. Clicking on it, he saw you had alarms scheduled until eight in the morning, and it was only six. He turned the seven between now and then off and was ready to set your phone back down when a notification appeared at the top of the screen.

The icon had a little white bird, one of the social medias that Chris wasn’t too familiar with. He would have ignored it since you had already gotten a text from your friend asking about a homework assignment due later today and a notification from some mobile game that was begging you to come back and play it, and he didn’t pay any mind to those. But for this one, the headline grabbed his attention. The first of a bad storm, making this young guy smell my DAD FARTS.

Surely, he couldn’t be reading that right.

While the notification loitered at the top of the screen, Chris’ thumb moved up to it. He clicked it without a second thought, and it redirected him to the app it was sent by. The layout of the app wasn’t anything Chris knew his way around, but thankfully it took him directly to the page and not the home screen. There was only one thing he could do, and it was simple enough: scroll. At the very top was the video with the caption that drew his attention. Chris clicked on the thumbnail of the video, which showed a man squatting over another guy’s face who had an open mouth just below his hole. Chris would have been concerned about waking you up, but if you slept through your alarms, you wouldn’t wake up to a video where the only sound were farts and moans. The video picked up in the moment that the thumbnail showed, the dominant man lowered his ass onto the guys tongue and started farting. He was telling him all of these commanding things that Chris, even as your dad, would never say as a parent. Slowly, the dominant man started replacing his words with grunting and making a plethora of satisfied noises. The man under him was younger, his responses sounded higher pitched and more innocent as the older man’s ass let out farts that were as deep as his voice. The sheer power dynamic was something unlike he’d ever seen. Sure, he had seen his fair share of porn on VHS tapes, and saw guys dominating girls, but it was never to this degree. In his tight little boxers, his dick started to rise.

As he looked deeper into the page, it was clear. The entire page was full of posts about farting and other forms of ass worship, but the caption above each video had one common theme: they were all about dads dominating their sons. It was always a pair of thick cheeks swiping a smaller boy’s head between them. Each video had a caption lingering above it from the point of view of the son or the father, about not telling their mother or being glad that she left so this faux dad and his son could have uninterrupted bonding time. And you were into it, almost every video was liked and saved in some way as indicated by the illuminated heart and blue bookmark at the bottom of each video. His tent only got bigger, pushing the already-cramped pouch to it’s limit. The fly of his boxers held together with one button was parted to show his length underneath. If it weren’t for that button, his girth would have filled the entire space and possibly even slipped through the slit.

But as his dick sprung up, his brows furrowed. Why didn’t you ever tell him about this?

Sure, Chris blatantly fit your niche for sexual gratification but you didn’t want him. Your father. This was just a fantasy you had—probably one of many conjured in your horny head—and he wasn’t asking you to jerk off with him by any means, but just to be communicative. He would like to know the type of guys you’ll eventually bring home—or at the very least, he wanted to be able to give you the freedom to talk about a hot guy passing the two of you on the street. To say “he’s cute,” and your dad could agree. But where did the prospect of guys even come from? His son only ever talked to him about girls. Chris expressed that he would be more than happy to support his son if he was interested in anything other than that, but you insisted that girls were your only priority. But that was a few years ago… and any time he tried to pry and get you to open up to him about your crushes, you seemed avoidant of the topic. Avoidant of him for a reason that was slowly becoming more clear.

There was only one way to handle it. Face the problem head-on. If you weren’t going to open up then he would have to make the first move, even if it was unexpected and possibly unrequited on your part. You partially deserved it—well, mostly, but Chris loved you too much to actually hold you to your faults. He tried to see things in a good light; your alarms were waking him up earlier so that you could spend more time with him, your secrecy and privacy were something to ignore and push past like any good parent knows how to do. You were his perfect little boy who could do no wrong, so this wasn’t a punishment or a rude awakening like you had given him; it was a feast.

So, instead of a slap to the face to awaken you, he did something much more soft and caring. All of those videos he looked at, the so-called “Dad” of each would usually hover over the guy under him or outright sit on his face. To do that, he had to make sure you were on your back, which you already were, his hand gripped your chin and fixed your head turned off to the side, making it so that you were looking directly up to the ceiling. And lastly, he peeled back your sheets and crumpled them up on the opposite side of the bed from where he stood. To his surprise, you slept without anything on at all. The boy he had taught to wear jammies and set and example by wearing loose-hanging fleece pants and a tank top to bed every night had found it more comfortable to wear nothing. To be so vulnerable, it was another side of you that he had never seen.

Chris leaned down and placed his hand on your chest. It stayed there for a second, too stiff to move because if it does go anywhere, it will move down your medial and end up groping areas he wasn’t ready to touch. He let out a sigh and softly spoke to you, “Get up, champ. Come on.”

Chris wanted to you wake up in that moment with his voice, for his irrational parental decisions to be put to rest by you finally fluttering your pretty mother-like eyes open. His stomach started to swirl with anxiety. This wouldn’t mean anything, right? It was payback with a bit of pleasure. You got your mother’s eyes, the same ones Chris stared into and fell in love with. The same shade that leaned into her inherited features and gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes countless times, the same ones she bestowed to you. The ones he saw looking back at him when he looked at the best achievement in his life—his baby boy. But you were lazy, sleeping in, hardly being the boy your dad talked so highly of at family gatherings. You were barely the boy he recognized anymore… when did you start to act like this? What would he say to them now? Would he talk about how bad you were or about his own bad behavior? What if you told them all that he did, after he did this, and he lost you? Well, he better just enjoy you before you leave him anyways, whether that’s for college or another man.

For now, you couldn’t get away from him if he was holding you down. This was like a warm bear hug when your kid leaves for college, it’s like a hug after they get their license and nearly get hit for the first time and you’re less worried about the car and more worried about your bairn. Chris repeated every excuse he could think of and welcomed the new ones that entered the fray to justify what he was about to do. He could never admit that he liked what was going to happen next. No, the tent pitched in his boxers by his painfully hard dick—harder than it had ever been—was because of the porn, not because of his son. It couldn’t be.

Chris placed his bare foot on the edge of your bed, he then propelled himself up and was able to stand next to your sleeping figure with both feet. He had to hunch down a bit so that his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling. Then, he stepped over you so that his feet were on either side of you. His weight shifting on your bed and the creaking of your mattress frame still wasn’t enough to breech through whatever your sleepy head was dreaming about. He tried to align himself with his heel starting at about your shoulders and his big toe ending just shy of your elbow, his front half had the perfect outlook to your room from the highest possible angle. Everything you would never grow into could be seen from up there, including the dust on your ceiling fan.

His mind spiraled as it twisted. The Earth still lingered closely to the sun, so the warm days that were soon to turn cold still needed a reprieve. But both things still orbited around one perfect little center, and in this case, it was you. Chris planted his ass squarely over your face. At first, he hovered. Holding his breath while he felt yours hit against the back of his legs. Each soft breath… so carefree. In minutes, he’d have you fighting for the same air you were about to be cut off from. He hated to admit, even if it was just to himself, that the idea nearly made his boxers prematurely soaking wet.

Chris’ ass was big, and sealed off your face completely when he sat on you. He could feel how your face only impacted the space between his doughy cheeks, and he could feel the fat on his ass—one that’s all smackable plush with no tension to stop any ripples. He didn’t even have to wedge them apart with his hands for them to be wide enough! He fell into one of those “don’t look down” situations where, if he did see how he completely smothered his boy’s face with his ass, he probably would have shot up and made sure you were okay. But you wanted this, this force that he couldn’t give you in every day life. Why else would you turn to porn instead of your dad?

You woke up when the entire weight of your dad was resting on you. He made sure to not absolutely crush you—but who knows, maybe you would like that—since he was well built and covered a lot of your upper body with his thick thighs and ass alone. Now, parking it back on your face, he might actually suffocate you.

“Mmm,” you groaned, your body reflexively trying to stretch and turn the muscles that had been still for hours. In just a few brief seconds, it immediately knew what it was under—your dad’s full moon. “Dad?”

All of your noise was filtered through layers of fat, barely escaping around the mound on top of you. You were talking directly into his clothed ass, eyes staring up the run of his back. Chris could feel your hot saliva and breath already seeping through the fabric and to his skin. He shuddered, but remained cool. Chris reached down and palmed at his tented erection and pressed his other hand on your chest to shift his weight forward to his knees and the supporting hand. He slid that hand down your body and moved the rest of the covers out of the way that he had missed on his first go-around. He wanted to see you, imagining your legs kick while under him. While he was far from that point, you were already chubbing up. You were a bit smaller than your dad and his crown jewels—and he was being generous with ‘small’ because you’re his boy—but it was more reassuring for him because it meant that you were enjoying it.

He was wearing boxers. Something you hadn’t seen him do in a while. The last time you caught him this stripped down was about a month ago when he was preparing to take a shower and had to cross the hall in a pair of his briefs to grab the shampoo he left in his bag. You’re pretty sure he left it in his luggage after a work trip, but that quick glimpse was enough to stop you and your heart for a second as you were heading to your room. You picked up that he might just have been adding extra layers because you felt intimidated by him—by his muscles, his generally wide and commanding physique, and his voice and tone. Little does he know that you don’t want to become a man like him. You want a man like him, a man that makes you feel inferior to yourself.

“Sh-sh-sh,” he made the noise softly with his mouth. “Daddy’s here, and he’s got breakfast.”

Chris sat up straight again after leaning down to reveal your dick, putting all of his weight back on your face with his ass. As if on cue, he let out a relaxed sigh and the first of many farts sputtered out.

A muffled—but expected—protest squeaked out from under him, much quieter than his fart, “Dad!”

Your dad didn’t expect to feel his dick beading with pre-cum as soon as it had. Each moment his dick throbbed hard shifted it up in his boxers ever so slightly and caused the cum to smear against the fabric it was sheathed in. It didn’t help that he occasionally groped his tent, but he had to stop or else he would cum too soon. Hearing your voice from so far away, so devoid of the bratty pedestal you put yourself on, put your father on a power trip.

“Call it a truce. I accept you and you get a little slap on the wrist for making your daddy cranky.” Chris lifted himself up again, moving back this time so he was closer to your headboard. The hand palming his tent lightly smacked the side of your face that wasn’t covered by skin and blue fabric, and you could feel the gloppy pre-cum at the ends of his finger tips. He must have been aching under those boxers to the point that they were wet on the outside. While his tent hung over your face now that he had moved back, it didn’t stay like that for long. You got a break from smelling his farts to smell his equally intoxicating musk before being gassed up by his farts again just moments later.

“It stinks,” you whined underneath his hefty ass. Your hands could have worked their way up to push him off, but he would be too heavy. His ass would be too fat, easy to grab but too hard to hold.

“Good, I know you like it like that. When it’s all… in your face.” Maybe he should keep his dirty talk to the short side of things, but Chris was still learning. Another fart came rolling out that lasted well over ten seconds and made him sigh in relief. He accompanied it after with a stern, “Sniff it, boy."

The smell wafted up to Chris’ nose. You’re right—it stinks. The addition of coffee made his bowels usher out the stirrings of last night’s dinner even quicker. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone all in on a savory dinner last night, because each blast from his ass smelled like that dish left out in the sun for days.

Chris moved again—he couldn’t tell if it was because he couldn’t run the risk of actually hurting you or if he was almost too jittery from this newfound pleasure to know what to make of it. He went from sitting back to kneeling over your chest, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers clawing up the small of his back, desperate to not slip down and show his ass. Still not enough room for you to escape from under him, but you really didn’t want to, and Chris knew that. All of his clothes bore the burden of having to stretch themselves to fit around his fat cheeks. He gave his tenuously stretched boxers a break by pushing them down past his ass and to his thick thighs. It wasn’t so easy in the front, since he had to push his painfully stiff erection down with the waistband, keeping it that way until they went below his tip. It sprung up, and just the movement against the still air in the room was enough friction to put Chris over the edge. He left his boxers stretched out between his thighs, stretching them even more when he moved back in your direction.

“These are gonna be even worse, boy.” Chris teased. He sat back on your face again. The only difference is that the warmth of skin-to-skin contact was more noticeable. Your dad’s unwashed ass funk was more noticeable than it had been in boxers that mingled the appalling scent of ass sweat and musk with the floral detergent he used to launder the clothes. Your nose was positioned directly to his hole, and that reeked the worst. It smelled rancid and filled your lungs with rank gas, you could feel it quiver at the cold. The tight ring twitched and tightened—the clear sign that Chris was straining to push the next flurry of gas out.

You dreaded what his unfiltered farts would smell like when they didn’t have a thread count to work through. Each fart had no warning as they came out, like a gun that didn’t need to be cocked before firing. The blasts were rapid-fire, shot out with such force that it made it easier to sniff them up as they came out directly against your nose.

He was right this time; they were much worse without some kind of necessary passthrough. The intensity and delivery of them was stronger, thicker as your nose immediately felt the gas burn as it entered your body and traveled down to your nervous system. Each intake made your breathing feel raspy, making his longer farts hard to sniff up in one draw. You had to huff—Jesus, you had to pant—to really get the full effect of some of his farts.

Chris started to welcome a bit of movement into it, making it harder to sniff up all of his gas. Whenever Chris cause a waft of it, he’d move closer and grind harder on your face, but after a few consistent rips with no smell twinging his nose, he would go back to moving back and forth over your face. His hips would thrust forward before rocking back to your forehead, his ass being big enough to not miss a single spot of you.

He parked himself on different parts of your face; your nose when he had to fart, but when he was waiting for the next one to be ready to come out, he moved to your chin and mouth and ordered you to eat him out. He farted in your mouth a few times while you were tonguing his hole, but he laughed it off and just moaned at the feeling of your tongue recoil and mouth twitch in disgust before returning back to his hole. He didn’t really have to check up on your during this, because as long as you were doing what he said, it was enough of a sign to tell him to keep going.

Chris tried to actively avoid his cock during this. The thought running through his head that he was sitting on his son’s face, coupled with a few pumps, might make him cum in a second’s minute. Something told him though that the feeling alone would catch up to him sooner than later, and it did faster than he thought. He wanted to continue, to keep this going, but it wouldn’t be revolutionary if it didn’t break the expected rules. His whole outlook on his son and his sex life had just been changed over the better half of an hour, and this trajectory just felt right.

With a mix falling somewhere between a cry and a moan, Chris shot his load, thick ropes shooting down your torso and his thighs. Some of them nearly made it to your own cock, that’s how hard it made him cum. The occasional spurt landed on your bed in wry sprigs before the short-lived high started to fall, and soon, Chris was sitting on your face. No rhythm, no care, just focused on the post-orgasmic glow of how he felt. It was enough to make him forget that he was sitting on you, letting his full weight rest on you again despite your breathing slowing.

This was supposed to be a punishment, and at this very moment, he had gotten everything he wanted: relief on his day off, worked things out with his son, and he left you hanging when he got up off your face. Chris awkwardly got off of your bed, trying to not accidentally knee you in chest or fall over when he went to stand up, the boxers around his thighs making it a bit difficult to fully use his flexibility to help him. Your cock still stood in the swirl of sheets. He couldn’t deny that you looked so good laid out like that, ready for the taking. He wanted to do more, but it took years to raise you into the man you are. He would turn you into his slut if he hadn’t already, but today was the first step. Chris stepped out of his boxers, reaching down to pick them up and giving you a view of his fat ass. Now that he wasn’t telling you to not jerk off, your hand was already wrapping around your cock.

“I had a moment to think, and you can jerk off with these.” Chris turned and threw his boxers, they landed on your face and you got his with the immediately smell that had just left your nose. It wasn’t as strong, but it was enough. “Your daddy won’t do everything for you.”

And with that, he left the room to let you get to your business. You savored the fleeting sight of his ass as he walked out, shutting the door like you had always asked him to do whenever he barged in. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have separate rooms for much longer, though. Waking up would be much easier in the future.

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honeytonedhottie · 1 year ago

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get ready to get back to school⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🗒️

i can hardly believe that school is coming up. in like, two/one week. ISNT THAT ABSURD? i feel like summer just flew past but im very excited to start my junior year of highschool…💬🎀

BUYING DREAM SCHOOL SUPPLIES ;

when ur school supplies are cute, you'll feel MOTIVATED to put them to good use. idek what it is. 99% of my school supplies are pink and because of that im motivated to take good notes, study my notes etc because seeing the sparks of pink just make me so HAPPY.

so ofc this year my school supply list has remained consistent in its color scheme of pink, pink and more pink 🎀. some things on my school shopping list are ->

notebooks

a binder

dividers for the binders with adorable labels

pink and purple gel pens (along with black gel pens)

pastel highlighters

looseleaf paper

a fluffy pink pen

FIX UR SLEEP SCHEDULE ;

ik a lot of us (including myself some times) stay up for way to long and feel like our sleep schedule is BEYOND repair but it is not. u need to be getting back into a consistent sleeping routine that keeps u healthy and well rested not only for back to school but for ur own well being. you'll have plenty of time tomorrow for what u choose to stay up all night doing, i promise.

FOR MY ONLINE GIRLIES ;

so this year i'll be taking a semester online so i've been dabbling in figuring out the perfect routine for an online school regimen. one in which i could balance personal and academic life in a healthy way (get sunlight everyday, sleep on time etc) some things that im going to prioritize while doing a semester online are ->

♡ getting fresh air everyday

♡ going for a walk everyday and making sure to stay active

♡ NOT doing school work in bed

so a tip i've learned is that the things that u do in bed, your mind will like, associate ur bed with it. so for example if ur constantly playing video games in bed, when its time to relax and go to bed, when ur in bed your mind will be like "time to play video games". so i will not be doing school work in bed, also for a healthy change of scenery…💬🎀

♡ going out with my friends and calling them everyday so that im not isolated

♡ keeping a steady and productive routine

SETTING GOALS ;

lets be goal oriented, A+ academic barbies this year ✍🏽. to make sure that ur doing ur very best its important to set goals for urself. having something to strive for is a great way to stay motivated and disciplined during the year. my goal for my junior year is to keep my straight A streak and finish with my law distinction (im 3/4 of the way done). and ofc its important to break down ur goals, and i'll give an example of how i did this.

so in freshman year ik i wanted a distinction in law, and to get a distinction in law i would have to take 4 separate law courses. there are 4 years in highschool so if i took one law course per school year i'd have my distinction. but i wanted to expedite the process so i took one course freshman year, and two courses sophomore year. this year i will take one more.

this frees up SO much time for me to get another distinction and since i've already taken a course of business in freshman year, i'll strive for my business distinction too…💬🎀

if u dont know where to start with goal setting for school here are some ideas ->

♡ maintain ur current GPA or try and raise it

♡ never get below a B on any assignment or test

♡ do every single homework assignment (never take a zero)

STAYING ORGANIZED ;

staying organized is CRUCIAL for being successful in school. i use notion to keep myself organized during the school year. by putting down dates for tests in my calendar, ik when i need to start preparing. and by making a todo list everyday i can stay on top of my assignment.

if u struggle with school organization, set aside an hour a day to just make sure that everything is in its place. and it doesnt even have to be an hour, just set aside time every single day to make sure that everything it where its supposed to be. it'll save you SO much time in the future and you'll rly thank urself for it in the future.

and to end this post, i'll share some school/academic related affirmations 💗

🗒️ im literally the definition of beauty and brains

📔 im the top of my class

🗒️ i must have perfect memory cuz i remember everything im taught in class

📔 im literally a GENIUS

🗒️ i effortlessly stay at the top of my class

📔 wow, im smart, pretty, AND talented?? god rly does have favorites

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 year ago

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better late than never

in which uni student fem!reader finally shares exactly what she's been worried about with spencer

18+ for pregnancy scare warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, reader doesn't want to be pregnant, age gap (unspecified) a/n: listennn lots of you guys asked for more spence x uni reader... but u didn't specify WHAT u wanted... so now we're fantasizing about pregnancy scares because we're all what?? say it with me!! MENTALLY ILL!!!!

For the fifth time, you have to restart the paragraph you were reading. For the fifth time, it doesn’t make any sense—words strung together like clashing beads on a dancing string, blurred together by the tears you’ve been fighting all day. Anthropology is by far the easiest of the six classes you’re taking this quarter, but suddenly completing this routine assignment feels like scaling a mountain. It is, of course, nothing in comparison to the catalytic source of your immense stress. The thing you’ve been trying to ignore for nearly a week, and as a result, have become more and more obsessive about.

A flare of rage overwhelms you and you slam your laptop shut. Then as quickly as it appeared, it dissipates, cooling to desolation as you bury your face in your hands with a sob. You hear paper shuffling from the desk where Spencer has been silently working and you try to reign in your emotions, but it’s too late.

“Hey,” he says gently as he approaches, slowing to a stop in front of your spot on the couch. “What’s going on with you?”

You sniff, quickly brushing the tears away with trembling hands. But your voice is thick and strained when you fruitlessly attempt to lie.

“Nothing.”

When you refuse to look up at him, he kneels down in front of you.

“Really? This doesn’t have anything to do with why you’ve been so quiet these past few days?”

Of course, he noticed. You were a fool for thinking he wouldn’t. Finally you break, looking to him for subconscious comfort. And he’s looking up at you so earnestly, with so much genuine concern in those puppy dog eyes, that the waterworks threaten to start up all over again. Your lip quivers.

“I can’t tell you,” you squeak.

“That’s a really scary thing for me to hear. Do you understand why?” His voice is calm, carefully grabbing your hand and bringing to his heart. “Because I need to know if something happened to you.”

You shake your head tearfully, looking down at where you’re weakly grasping the front of his shirt.

“‘s not like that,” comes your reedy whisper. “Nobody hurt me or anything, I just—I don’t want you to get mad at me.”

“I won’t get mad, I won’t,” he promises desperately, “right now I just want to know what I can do to make this better. I hate seeing you like this.”

A shuddering sigh forces its way out of your lungs. You suppose this is the kind of thing you probably should tell your boyfriend about, as petrifying as it may be.

“I don’t know, I… I’ve just been freaking the fuck out because I’m worried I’m pregnant, and this would be the worst possible timing—like I know I want kids one day but I’m still in college and you’re like a real adult with an adult career and I don’t want to fuck that up for you and I know that even if I am pregnant I have choices but that’s still so scary and… and I don’t know.”

You’re expecting a long pause, punctuated by some berating and bemoaning, but it never comes. Spencer doesn’t miss a beat.

“Honey, this is exactly the kind of thing you tell me about,” he says, voicing your earlier thoughts. And he doesn’t even sound furious. You glance up, watching his visage swim beyond your teary eyes. “I am not mad. That wouldn’t make any sense. Do you know who’s fault it would be if you accidentally got pregnant?”

“Well—"

“Mine. So if this ever happens again, please don’t keep it to yourself for so long. I won’t be mad at you for something like this, ever.”

“But… you’re not worried?”

He shakes his head slowly, looking utterly unperturbed.

“I wouldn’t be worried either way. But no, I’m not concerned that you’re pregnant. We’re really safe. The chances of you being pregnant are essentially negligible.”

“But I’m two weeks late.”

“That can happen when you’re taking six upper level classes,” he agrees, swiping your cheek with a thumb. “You’re under a lot of stress. I’m completely unsurprised that your body is reacting to it.”

A weight like a ton of bricks is lifted from your shoulders, but doubt still lingers.

Spencer sees the hesitation in your eyes.

“Would it make you feel better to take a test? Just in case?”

You nod gingerly, wrapping your hand around his wrist. He takes it in both of his, kissing the back before dropping them to your lap.

“Okay. I’ll go get a couple. But I’m confident that you have nothing to worry about, and I’m usually right about these things.”

You take another deep breath, the last of the anxiety floating away with it. He’s usually right about everything.

“Spence?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, brushing your palm with his thumb and looking at you with so much love in his eyes.

“Do you maybe feel like doing my homework for me?”

He smiles.

“Nice try. Get it done and we can go out for dinner, okay?”

“Always worth a shot,” you shrug.

He laughs, shaking his head as he stands.

“And the answer will always be no.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3 · 1 year ago

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your friend isn't always a genius

request

dom! aaron hotchner x brat reader

summary: Aaron's been on a case for to long reader decideds to be a brat but he gets home sooner than expected, turns out aaron got some advice from his friend.

warnings: use of y/n, masturbat!on fem, consensual voyeurism, being a brat, punishments, recording, daddy kink, mentions of spencer reid

it's been almost two weeks since aaron went on a case. it wasn't anything major, but with the towns police hindering the investigation due to a lack of knowledge and experience, he's had to stay longer than planned.

you know you can't blame aaron for being on a case, but having a break in routine always results in you bratting. so honestly, he shouldn't have expected less.

you currently sat on your knees infront of your full body mirror dressed in only a pair of pretty pink lace panties and one of aarons sleep shirts, taking pictures that you knew you'd get in trouble for. it didn't matter tho, you loved aarons punishments. you loved the way his hand felt when he spanked your ass or when you'd go brain dead from him fucking you so good. if you were being honest it was one of your favorite things.

sending the pictures to aaron you sit and wait for him to see it. it's around nine, and he's usually in the hotel by now unless they had a break in the case. you check and seeing that he read the text you pussy dampened and your heart speed up. waiting for a reply you sit there, and sit there, and sit. it's about 5 minutes when you decide to call him.

the phone ringing 3 times before he answers. 'hey sweetheart' he answers like he would normally. 'why didn't you answer my text?' you question, opting out of a greeting. 'because your not supposed to do that' he replys plainly. 'so? what you were just gonna ignore me?' you ask him letting your voice raise.

' I was' aaron says as if it's a normal thing.

' you never ignore me ' you say pouting as if he could see you. ' and you continue to be a brat. ya know spencer and I got the talkin and he said that if someone constantly has the same punishment every time they acted out, it'd become less effective.' he states, making you wonder what in their conversation made them talk about this and why he thought it pertained to you.

because it does.

'and? the fuck does that mean aaron?' you pout feeling the urge to really pass him off now. I mean if he was gonna change up punishments you can change up what your getting punished for.

'watch it' he warns urging you to not play this game. decideding he was beyond wrong and that you'd not only play this game, but win. you hung up the phone, removing your underwear you sat up the camera to where your pussy was on full display. hitting record, you let your fingers travel down your cheest, over your stomach past your clit collecting all of your juices on your fingers. bringing then back up to your clit you make eye contact with your camera as you start to play with your pussy.

moaning at the pleasure, you couldn't deny how good it felt, but you also couldn't deny how much it felt nothing like aaron. bringing your fingers down to your entrance, sliding them in as your eyes roll back and toes curl.

'oh fuck it feels so good' you moan out. you continue to fuck yourself on camera for about five minutes before you realize something. 'fuck I can't cum' you groan out. not knowing why but still wanting to win. so you crop the last bit of the video and send aaron the gold parts.

confused on why it's been five minutes of really good pleasure, and yet you haven't cum yet. you decided to get a toy, recording yourself play with it for a while before groaning and giving up at the same out come.

editing that video and again sending only the good parts you guessed that you must have became camera shy out of nowhere. so you play with your pussy while the camera isn't on. you try everything in the span of 6 hours, reaching for your phone at hour 3 to watch porn because maybe you need a little help.

which lead to realizing aaron once again left you on read.

you genuinely felt as though you could cry now. that's when the realization hits you. you've must of been so hardwired to aaron that it's impossible for you to cum without him now.

feeling angry, not necessarily at aaron, but at the fact that he probably knew you couldn't come without him, that's probably why he was okay with ignoring you.

getting cleaned in the bathroom before going back to the bedroom with a frown on your face, you let out a huff as you plopped on the bed.

☆

waking up the next morning, you check your phone. feeling your heart drop and crawl it's self back in place you read the one message from aaron. sent hours after you went to bed, about 1 a.m., telling you how they had a break in the case and caught the guy in the act. which means he'd be home anytime today.

that'd usually make you ecstatic, but with aarons newfound discovery of ignoring you only God knows what your punishment will be.

☆

you spend the day cleaning the apartment, cooking aaron his favorite meal, even going as far as making brownies. also thinking it was better to clean the whole apartment too just in case.

☆

almost perfectly on time, when you're taking the brownies out, aaron walks through the door. 'hey baby' he greets, walking over to hug you. "at least he's not that mad" you think to yourself. 'hi' you reply shyly, letting your head rest on his chest.

you've missed this, and if kinda makes you feel bad for being a brat. looking around the kitchen, aaron smiles fondly at the food you prepared. then picks you up whole he spins to look at the whole apartment, he knows it's because you didn't expect him home so soon after acting out, but he still loves it.

'enjoy the time you have sugar, cause after we eat your ass is done for' he smiles grabbing a handful of your ass and pecking your lips, before letting you down and making his way to the table.

let let out a groan, but honestly expecting that food and dessert wasn't gonna save you from your punishment.

☆

your weren't that hungry so you finished before aaron. as soon as the last piece was gone from his plate, you shot up to start cleaning the kitchen. 'Ah, that can wait baby' aaron tells you as he gets up from the table and motions for you to follow. 'what? noo, I got it' you answer starting to wash the dishes.

aaron walked behind you, an amused smile on his face. which goes away after he sees that your purposely washing slowly 'the longer you take on the dishes, the more time is added to your punishment' he says, making you drop the fork out of your hands. 'what? that's not fair'. you try to argue only for aaron to turn around and make his way to your shared room.

saying fuck it you decided not to do the dishes and follow him to the room. 'you done?' he asks 'fuck you, yes' you reply. making him laugh while he sat on the edge of the bed.

'get undressed baby' aaron commands you. decideding to choose your battles wisely and not have you outfit ripped apart, knowing aaron is not only good for buying clothes but destroying them, you undressed.

moving over, you sit in the center of the bed like he always tells you. waiting for him to say something you patently wait playing with your fingers.

he gets up from the edge of the bed and turns to you 'had fun without me?' your boyfriend asks you. 'not at all daddy, it was so boring' you answer back. ' so glad your back now' you add smiling up to him.

he lets out a loud laugh at your answer. 'seems to me you had all the fun in the world' aaron says. shacking your head no, while he shakes his head yes 'I know you did baby and it's okay.' he speaks as he makes his way to the chair in your room. 'how many times did you cum?' he ask while getting comfortable.

'don't ask me that daddy' you groan. he chuckles while un doing his tie. 'you don't want to tell me baby?' he questions. Shacking your head no he just smiles at you before speaking 'go ahead nd show me baby'.

confusion feels your body as aaron watches you from across the room. 'what?' you whispered, silently praying that you misheard him.

'baby I want you to play with your pussy while I watch' he admitted as if it was a mundane request. 'show me what you did while I was gone' he told you with a smirk.

shacking your head no, you desperatly thank of anything to get you out of this. 'that's so embarrassing daddy' you tell him as you pout.

your pussy is getting wetter by the second but you didnt know if you'd be able to cum. or even worse if you'd be allowed to.

before you could blink aaron got up and exited the room. you were confused to say the least and once he returned with a lighter that confusion only grew.

that was, until he went into your shared closet.

your jaw hit the floor as you see him walk out with one of your favorite pairs of heels. 'aaron what are yo-' 'shh baby' he cuts you off tossing your heels infront of the bed.

'they're just encouragement' he says as he reclaims his seat, lighter in hand 'but know that you'll be punished one way or another' he says plainly.

letting out a whine 'this isn't fair' you tell him wich in return earns you an eye roll. '10 minutes' he speaks. 'huh?' you question '10 minutes' he repeats.

'10 minutes to cum or you'll have 10 minutes to say goodbye to your shoes. you pick.' he clears up slightly shrugging his shoulders.

expecting your embarrassment you lay back down and prop your knees up. 'is that good?' you ask to which you get no reply. you drag two fingers through your slit and to your entrance. collecting your juices before letting them dip in.

you let out a moan, letting your body relax as you bring your finger out and back in. you cant lie about how good it feels, humiliation and all.

dragging your fingers out you bring them to circle your clit. you look at aaron and notice his intense gaze on your pussy in return you let out a whine and feel your pussy clamp around nothing.

you speed up your fingers and bring your other hand up to grope your breast. surprisingly to you, you can feel your orgasm building up.

adding more pressure to your clit to chase your orgasm it seems to finally click for aaron that your about to cum. to say you could see the disappointed on his face would be an understatement, "ill let her have this tho" , he thought to himself.

your shut your eyes as tight as they could as your feel the coil in your abdomen burst 'oh fuck daddy' you moan out as your orgasm washes through you.

breathing deeply as your legs twitched you finally opened your eyes to see your boyfriend on his phone. 'aaron what the fuck are you doing' you question as you see him typing away.

he barley spears you a glance before going back to typing and saying 'spencer said you wouldn't be able to cum on your own by now'

tag : @jxvipike

a/n☆ this is the 3rd version of this story bc tumblr deleted the other two 😺 not proof read, so mb for any mistakes😻😽 - daisy

#girlblogging #aaron hotchner x reader #black fanfic writer #x black fem reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds smut #anon ask #bimbo reader #hottest girl in mourge #brat reader #bd/sm brat

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satinestales · 1 year ago

Text

❝self destructive tendencies❞ | qimir x fem!reader

pairing: qimir x fem!reader

● this is a 3rd pov, if you want to read 2nd pov, here●

summary: A week has passed since the battle on Khofar and the startling reveal of her former friend. Qimir, the man behind the mask and the murderer of her comrades took her to a remote island, far away from the Republic's surveillance, after she sustained severe injuries. She's been keeping her distance from him, trying to ignore her hidden feelings. Yet, when his thoughts merge with hers, the vow she made to herself becomes almost impossible to keep.

warnings: english is not my first language, sexual tension, lots of sexual tension, corruption, sexual themes/dreams, E Y E C O N T A C T, qimir, mentions of blood and injuries

author's note: I could not be a jedi I'd turn into aquaman if he asked me to join him

now playing, love in the sky by the weeknd

*:..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡౨ৎ 🍓｡˚🍰♡ ˚..。♡*ﾟ¨ﾟﾟ·*:..。♡ ︎

The moon hung low over the horizon, casting an eerie glow on the waves that lapped against the shores of the ghostly island. Qimir’s silhouette stood out against the backdrop of the night sky, his presence a constant reminder of the blood and carnage he left on Khofar. As she lay on the rough sand, the pain from her injuries pulsed faintly, and she could not shake the mixture of fear and thirst that his proximity stirred within her. The island was a planet unknown to her, and as much as she tried to examine the surface, its location remained elusive. She supposed it might have been somewhere in the Outer Rim or beyond. Somewhere where the Republic would have a difficult way of finding her. World away from the Republic’s watchful eyes, and here, with only Qimir for company, she felt both vulnerable and strangely contented.

She decided to relax on the beach, further away from Qimir’s constant presence that melted her thoughts. However, luck wasn't on her side; minutes after settling in, he walked past her to his favorite bathing spot, smirk on his face as he acknowledged her presence. It was late at night, her legs and arms sore from the repetitive training she put herself through. The island offered few diversions. Waiting for Qimir’s next move or for Sol to find her wasn’t her idea of a perfect day. The injuries covering her body were difficult to ignore, and she refused to let Qimir get close enough to her to heal them. She told herself she would rather bleed out than feel his touch on her skin. Deep down, though, she knew the real reason for keeping him at bay.

So, she lay there, absentmindedly playing with a rock she found, irritated by his presence but too weary to consider moving again. She had to admit her fault; she had set up camp right in front of his favorite spot. Over the past week, she had seen him bare many times. First unbothered but lately it had gotten under her skin. She had been friends with Qimir for some time before discovering his true identity behind the mask and his responsibility for her friends' murders. Their deaths pained her, but the betrayal and realization of his deception cut deeper. After many years, she thought she found herself a friend outside the temple. One that she could share her interests and secrets with, without the fear of being judged by the Jedi. She told him about her fears and likes. Her doubts in the order and her wish to help people as much as she could. About her hate and desire. The Sith emotions. Now he’s using them to lure her in and trap her on the other side.

She wasn’t the most perceptive, but his intentions were clear. He knew her feelings, her likes, and dislikes; she had shared them with him when she believed he was her friend and a supplier. Even a blind person could see his thoughts, and her strength in the Force allowed her to delve into his mind, revealing more than she wished to know.

She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he slowly shed his clothes to enter the water, a routine he seemed to relish. Despite her experiences in battles and missions, witnessing the horrible conditions and lack of hygiene, even her comrades didn’t bathe as frequently as Qimir did before her. She considered herself fortunate; at least he smelled good, even if the scent of sandalwood mixed with citrus fruit drove her mad. She smelled it when she woke up, during meals and training, and before sleep. She felt him everywhere. She wasn’t sure for how much longer she could endure it.

She studied the muscles of his back as he swam slowly, admiring them from her vantage point. He was undeniably strong, scars marring his skin a testament to the pain he had endured. She observed how his dark hair moved with his motions, how he ran his long thick fingers through it while washing it gently. His biceps tensed as he splashed water around his neck, and she noticed the way he caressed his chest, attempting to cleanse away the day’s dirt.

It was only when she accidentally crushed the rock in half that she realized the intensity of her stare. Clearing her throat, she sat up and leaned against the mossy bank behind her, feeling shame wash over her. She was convinced his own dreams had started to corrupt her.

One of the curses of being a Jedi was the ability to read minds, and Qimir was no exception. She saw his thoughts vividly, filled with bright colors that sent adrenaline coursing through her veins. She wondered if he wanted her to delve into his mind, to make her believe he desired her, or if he simply didn’t care. She feared he could read her thoughts too, despite her lifelong ability to block out others with ease.

She lied to herself, convincing herself that she was immune to his ideas, desires, and magnetic charm. But every time he looked at her, towered over her, or she smelled him in the air, her knees buckled, her stomach tightened, and she fought against the need to press her legs together. She felt sick, and his mind brushing against hers didn’t help.

She felt it every time he drew near. He visualized her hands in his mind, how they caressed his scars and shoulders. She saw his hair falling down as he towered over her, gently pushing her against the cold floor of his cave. She felt his breath against her neck, his fingers pulling her hair, his skin pressed against hers. In his dreams, she never resisted. He was corrupting her in his dreams, and she never once objected in them. She was embarrassed he got her mannerisms right.

She was so lost in their shared thoughts that she didn’t notice Qimir making his way out of the water, his eyes fixated on her with dangerous intensity. He carefully leaned down to grab a towel, amusement playing on his lips. He didn’t want to wake her from her thoughts, whatever they may have been.

As he gently dried himself with the soft cloth, not taking his eyes off her, he tried to read her mind, even if he failed millions of times before. He never had difficulty reading someone; one look at them and he could see their whole past. But with her, he had no idea what she was thinking or planning, or what images played in her head. She was strong, stronger than the ones he had met before, and he admired that. He praised her strength in the Force and her ability to protect herself from her nemesis. Like him.

But he could read body language. He noticed how she tensed around him when he walked past her. How her chest started rising faster whenever he stared her down. Her goosebumps when they brushed against each other. How she pressed her legs together when he towered over her. And how she was now crushing the rock in her hand, gazing in his direction.

“You can always join me, you know that.” He breathed out, letting the cloth fall to the ground, replacing it with his long blouse. She almost wanted to take the top from him just so she could continue her view, but when she finally recollected her thoughts, she wanted to slap herself. “It would help with your wounds when you don’t let me heal them.” He uttered, dressing himself, not breaking eye contact with her. He liked her stare. He liked how she fought with her emotions and how they reflected in her eyes. It pleased him.

“I’m okay,” she faked a smile, swallowing the ridiculous amount of saliva in her mouth. She forced herself to look somewhere other than his strong forearms or how he dragged the pants up his muscular legs. She found a cute shell, admiring it from afar.

She didn’t catch the grin on his face as her face turned pink and she clenched her fists. He was amused with her reactions, but her ripped bandage and the blood revealing itself underneath caught his full attention. His face froze, along with his movements while buttoning up his shirt. He would never touch her unless she wanted him to, but her leg was nowhere near being healed and with the lack of medical supplies on this island, she’d lose it long before she’d be able to leave the island.

“Let me help you.” It wasn’t a question, more of a subtle order. She didn’t miss it. A week ago, on Khofar, Qimir had stopped himself before fatally hurting her, but he still landed a strike on her leg that had trouble healing. She was stubborn enough to push him away when he offered his help, and now she started to slowly regret it.

“I don’t need anything from you,” she hissed at him, catching a glimpse of his unbuttoned blouse.

“You’re a powerful Jedi, and I don’t doubt you’d be still as fierce as you are now without your leg,” he murmured, making his way towards her, leaving his bag and shoes near the water. “If you want to risk it.” She watched him tilt his head as he slowly approached her. She could only see the images in his mind, his plans and ideas. But underneath it all, he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He wanted to help her. In his own way. He was her friend; he knew her weaknesses and strengths. He knew what she wanted, and he was willing to give it to her. But she couldn’t erase the lying and murder of her friends. She wanted her friend back. Maybe something else this time, but her trust in him had faded. Now it was just Qimir, confusing her thoughts and making her rethink her morals. She felt as disgusted with him as she felt with herself. But she understood him. Or at least tried to.

So, she didn’t oppose, letting him kneel in front of her, his hands carefully reaching out to her ripped bandage above her knee. He was so close she could smell him again. His hair fell into his face, covering his eyes that were focusing only on her wound. His fingers worked fast but tenderly as he lifted her thigh to unwrap the bandage. She swallowed hard, feeling his veiny hand below her leg. She was scared he could feel her burning skin, hoping he would mistake it as a result of the injury.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you on Khofar,” she heard him whisper, gripping the sand below her as he threw away the bandage, the cold air kissing her open wound. She almost heard pity in his voice. She was certain she imagined it.

She begged herself to look away, but her eyes betrayed her as they glared down at his hand that was almost as big as her thigh. He covered the wound, not touching it fully, concentrating on restoring her cells.

She was fascinated by how quickly the wound closed up, leaving only a small scar across her thigh. She had wanted to learn how to force heal ever since she lost her friend to a fatal injury as a kid, but the Jedi never taught her. No matter how hard she pleaded. Whenever she asked, they gave the same answer: only dark side users possess this power. She always felt it was ridiculous.

“How do you do it?” she managed to ask, ignoring Qimir’s confused stare as he picked up his head and drew his hand away from her. But he didn’t move position and kept kneeling between her feet. “How do you force heal?” she felt embarrassed asking, but he was one of her only chances to learn.

A soft smile crept to his lips as he moved his eyes from her face to her hands. She suddenly became aware of her vulnerable position.

“In order to heal someone,” he started, softness in his voice, no signs of mockery. “You need to focus on your own energy, imagine it and visualize it. Imagine its color, like you do with the Force.” He continued, his hands moving in motion with his words.

She could feel the warmth radiating off him as he sat centimeters away, his wet hair framing his sharp features. His eyes were dark, only the light of the moon reflecting in them. His lips were full, stretched as he shared his knowledge with her. She didn’t move a muscle and returned his stare. It was only the two of them.

“The Jedi teach only one way. Physical way. Taking your physical energy and giving it to someone who needs it,” he whispered, leaning his head to the side, giving her a view of his sharp jaw. His neck was thick, his collarbones defined. “But there is another way.” He stopped to look at her, examining her expression. She was listening intently, breathing fast, and her eyes bored so deeply into him he was certain she could read everything he was thinking. He let her.

“Below the surface of consciousness are powerful emotions. Anger. Fear. Loss.” He started listing, his eyes twitching between her eyes and her lips. “Desire.”

Her leg muscles twitched, her core burning up. She wanted to bury herself.

“Only Sith feel those emotions,” she whispered back, denying herself. She saw a smile tugging on the corner of his mouth before he lowered his gaze.

“You can draw energy from them, direct them in any way you want,” he purred, looking back at her, letting her feel his emotions. “However, whenever you want.” He lowered his voice as he stretched the last words, reading her face.

He knew she read his mind. He knew she saw the images that kept him awake and his wishes. He had had them since he met her months ago, and when he sensed her attraction toward him, they only intensified. He wanted her and was simply waiting for her to admit the same to herself, no matter how long it would take.

#star wars #qimir the acolyte #qimir #osha x qimir #star wars qimir #qimir smut #qimir x reader #qimir fic #acolyte ep6 #the acolyte #star wars the acolyte #starwars fic #star wars smut #starwars

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literaila · 1 year ago

Text

three things

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: a fun trip to the grocery store (how do you raise children?)

warnings: a bit of anxiety, a bit too much of gojo

last part | next part

year one.

"no, satoru."

how many times have you said that today?

how many times has satoru pouted--like he's doing right now--and put back whatever he'd plucked off the shelf, grumbling something about how you hated him or you weren't his mom or how he was the one buying everything?

oh, too many times to count. you stopped after five.

megumi rolls his eyes with you, already familiar with this routine, looking at everything in the cart again with the same analytical eye he's had since you all walked into the store. you're pretty sure he's counting the total cost.

it might be cute--the way his frown deepens just a little bit after each new item is added--if it didn't worry you completely.

because it's the first time you've taken the two of them to the store, and the first time you're trying to recall everything their eyes trail over, the things they want but neither of them will say.

you're trying to remember yourself as a kid--if you begged your parents for anything you could possibly want, or if you stood there and stared longingly. but your childhood has always been a dull memory you keep hidden in the attic of your mind.

so you're not sure what to expect.

because neither of them has asked for much, since the first night. tsumiki requested a notebook she could draw in, and megumi asked if you could get gojo to stop talking to him.

the first which you did immediately, even letting gojo get her some expensive pencils to draw with, the second which you... tried.

it hasn't been easy, the past few days. settling two kids into a dysfunctional house didn't exactly fit into your schedule for the week.

"why not?" satoru demands, walking right along slide you, pushing the cart because you'd forced him to. "we need dessert."

"there are seven different types of dessert already in there. i'm hiding at least three of those, by the way."

"i'll find them," satoru grins mischievously, but waves a hand. "we've got two extra people in the house now. i'm not just shopping for me. do you want them to starve?"

you roll your eyes, again. then pull on his hair, which he squeaks at. "you're only shopping for you. i've seen your pantries, you know. and i lived with you for three years. we all saw your grocery lists."

satoru is about to say something, but tsumiki giggles. maybe at the stupid way his face looks.

the way he's almost smiling, even in denial. how his eyes show from just behind his glasses, his brows moving like a separate entity on his face.

you haven't really talked to him, the past couple of days. nothing beyond a question about megumi's technique, or where the two of them went to school.

how long will it take before you finally ask him--

you look over to tsumiki, shaking your head at satoru and smiling back.

"megumi doesn't like sweets much," she adds to you, easily.

you add it to the mental list of things you know about them.

you look at the little boy, and he nods, looking straight ahead. his shoes catch on the ground every couple of steps like they don't fit right.

satoru gasps like this is an outrage. because not drinking straight sugar is offensive to him.

"what?" he asks, stopping all three of you so he can grab megumi by the shoulders. "were you cursed?" he inspects the boy carefully, peering over the glasses on his face.

megumi seems to sink back with each glance of his eyes, his face turning red.

"cursed to deal with you, maybe," you tell him, pushing him away from megumi. the boy fixes his hair--which had been pushed over his eyes--and glares at satoru.

"he doesn't like sweets?" the man repeats, mouth open, glancing at all three of you like he's not sure that any of you are sane.

"you say that as if you don't eat enough for all four of us."

"i need the calories," satoru whines, fluttering his eyelashes at you. you ignore him--and the funny way you feel about the gesture.

you look at both of the kids, observing the two of you closely, and give them a look. a look as in, he's crazy.

megumi swallows. "i like dango."

"great!" you nudge satoru to keep walking. "we'll get some."

"that's it?" satoru prods. "what about--"

you pinch his hip and shake your head, glaring at him when he pouts at you again.

you step on his heels as you walk through the aisles, still watching the kids with sharp eyes, trying to figure out anything they might want.

tsumiki murmurs something to megumi every once and a while, but beyond that, they only walk alongside you and satoru, stepping out of the way of any other adults that pass by.

honestly, you might as well have taken them to the park. they don't even glance at any of the shelves--except when satoru pushes one of them away to grab something. at least at the park, they'd be getting some fresh air.

after you sigh in--what? frustration? disappointment?--for the fourth time, satoru gives you a look, raising his brows. you shake your head.

he nudges you with his shoulder but doesn't say anything. whistling while he sneaks more sugar into the cart.

after the fifteenth minute of this, megumi falls in stride beside you and you look down at him. his eyes evade yours, focusing on the necklace you're wearing instead.

"um, i have to use the restroom," he says to you, soft and embarrassed.

"okay," you place a hand on his back, gently turning him around, "i think it's just over here," you say, listening as satoru follows along idly.

"me too," tsumiki says, trailing on your other side.

the store is almost completely empty, so you tell the two of them that you'll wait right outside the door, and lean against the wall, watching the both of them disappear.

satoru is already looking at you.

"what?" you groan, glaring at the doors.

"what what?"

you sigh. his voice is annoying. "why are you looking at me?"

satoru is too close for comfort, his arm brushing against yours--uncomfortably of course because he is the worst--without a care in the world. "what's up?"

"what do you mean?"

"why are you acting weird?"

"i'm not acting weird," you look at him, frowning.

he's wiping his glasses on his shirt--like he can actually see out of them--and looking at you quizzically. "oh, so you staring at tsumiki and megumi like they're a science experiment isn't weird?"

you ignore him and his stupid blue eyes.

"if i was doing that you'd push me down a flight of stairs, but okay..."

you sigh again, rolling your eyes. and then again. and then you relent because satoru's silence will inevitably break you. "they haven't asked for anything," you say, almost whining to him. "you told them they could pick out whatever they want."

satoru shrugs. "so they don't want anything."

"everyone wants something, satoru. especially kids."

"everyone?"

"yes. i'd expect you to know better than anyone," he laughs but you frown. "it's a human trait."

he smirks, leaning down towards you. "what do you want, then?"

you scoff, flicking his forehead. "i want them to feel comfortable. and i want you to stop bugging megumi."

"but he makes it so easy," satoru says, pretending to be innocent.

"you're the adult, here," you say, even though you don't really believe it--nor should you. "act like it."

"all the kid does is scowl," satoru complains. "i'm just trying to make him comfortable."

"by invading his space?"

"you stare from far away, i stare from up close."

"you antagonize."

satoru grins, crossing his arms, very pleased with himself. he's silent again.

the past year has almost made you forget that satoru knows you like this. he's always known how to keep you talking, how to read your face and your hesitant glances.

it's not like time could make him forget. it's not like you've forgotten anything about him.

"you aren't worried?" you ask, after a second.

"about the kids?"

"yes," you say, obviously, "that we're already messing something up."

he gives you a dubious look. "it's been four days."

and he's right. you can't expect to understand either one of them after seventy-two hours of merely knowing about their existence. but you don't know how to treat kids like these, because any mistake you make--anything you say--will inevitably come back to haunt you.

"it's--" you shake your head. satoru doesn't worry about anything, so you don't even know why you're bringing it up. "it's like when you play with someone else's kid and feel like you're breaking some unspoken rule. except this time we're the ones making the rules. there's no one to tell us if we mess up."

"i think megumi would tell us," satoru answers, almost sarcastically.

"he's the kid, idiot," you groan. "he doesn't know."

"rude," satoru is still grinning. "what could you have messed up, at this point? all you've been doing is asking them questions. that's pretty straightforward."

"maybe it's too much, too fast."

satoru snorts, shaking his head at you. "grocery shopping?"

"everything."

satoru raises a brow at you, watching as you deflate. you feel like each move you make takes a little more air out of you, and who's to say when you'll finally run out?

how many mistakes do you have to make to finally get it right?

and you know--and you know that he knows--that it's not just about them, but about you. is this too fast? is this too much?

satoru rests a hand on your head. "you're too in your head about this."

"well, i have to do it for the both of us."

he ignores that. "if they need something, they'll ask," the words are soft, genuine. he's completely sure like he always is. "you made it clear that we're just here to help. it's been four days."

you sigh, nodding reluctantly.

"we'll figure it out," he says, simply. "you don't need to worry about anything. i mean, i'm here, so..."

you push his hand away, glaring. "megumi doesn't even talk to you."

"hey, yes he does."

"to call you a freak, maybe. or tell you to shut up."

"don't be jealous of my relationship with megumi. we're bonding."

you roll your eyes but find a laugh making its way out of you.

he's always been good at this, too. making everything seem easy.

when tsumiki comes out of the bathroom door, she smiles at the sight of the two of you still there--both talking animatedly, with similar glares in your eyes. she settles in beside satoru, copying him as she leans against the wall.

"you think i'm great, don't you tsumiki?" satoru asks her, goading.

she nods immediately.

you snort and look away while tsumiki giggles when satoru leans down to smack a kiss on her cheek.

something inside of you warms, just briefly.

and then megumi comes out, rubbing his hands together. unlike tsumiki, he glares at satoru and chooses to stand beside you.

"okay," satoru clasps his hands together. "are you both ready to go?"

"um," you turn to him. "satoru we haven't--"

megumi nods immediately, looking a bit brighter at the prospect, and tsumiki furrows her brows, questioning.

"great! both of you pick out three things that you want and then we'll leave."

megumi glowers.

"three things?" you clear your throat. "they need more--"

"three things," satoru repeats, looking right at megumi while he says it. some words pass non-verbally between the two of them. you might have to tell satoru not to talk to megumi about anything without you. "we'll get everything else we need."

tsumiki runs alongside megumi and grabs his arm, which he allows, though you watch his eyes roll.

"go on," satoru shoos them away, smiling all proudly. when they're gone, he turns to you again. "there. now you don't have to worry about picking something they like."

and he reaches his hand to grab yours, as a simple habit.

satoru has never tip-toed around the line of physical contact. even with shoko, even when she would push him off.

something passes between the two of you. holding his hand is familiar; egged on by four years of standing alongside him.

you try not to flinch away from the contact.

and, sure, satoru probably just lost both of them in the store, and you don't actually have everything else you need, or know what those things are, but he's smiling at you.

he's trying to be reassuring.

so you smile back and let him hold your hand.

"we'll figure it out," he whispers to you, and you push the cart this time while the two of you try to find the children he just lost.

later that night--after forcing satoru to put away the groceries with the rest of you--megumi lets you sneak into his room with a (third) bag of candy that satoru grabbed last second, acting like you wouldn't notice.

"where's the best hiding spot for this?" you ask him, looking around.

it's pretty doubtful that satoru would risk going into megumi's room just to look for it. and, you're sure, that megumi probably wouldn't let satoru open the door, nonetheless go through his things.

the boy points at his dresser and moves some clothes so you can hide it at the bottom of one of the drawers. he doesn't even question your motivations.

as you back out of the room again, you make him promise not to tell, and, for a single second, megumi smiles back at you, crossing his heart.

next part

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miaoua3 · 1 year ago

Text

As Sweet As You

Pairing: scoups x f!reader

Genre: oneshot, fluff, comedy

Description: seungcheol takes his daily coffee intake very seriously. so when the company coffee shop temporarily closes, he faces a very big problem. or maybe, several bigger problems.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

so, here’s the thing. seungcheol knows how pathetic he must look like. jeonghan made sure to let him know every day since he has learned about this situation, always followed up by that stupid smirk of his.

a few weeks ago, their company cafe announced that it will undergo a big renovation due to bad conditions of the pipes, which meant seungcheol needed to find a new place to buy his daily coffee intake or else he probably wouldve killed somebody in cold blood.

hey, what can he say, he’s a little grumpy in the morning, thats why he always makes sure to have his morning coffee, otherwise he will make his bad mood everybody else’s problem.

on the day he walked down his usual route to the coffee shop and saw a paper with the info about the shop being temporarily closed glued to the glass window, he was sure he was going to punch somebody that day.

thinking about what he should do since going to jail wasn’t really his top choice of activities to do on that day, he decided to walk down the block to see if there’s another coffee shop.

as he was walking, he came across an alley. he could loosely remember walking past it many times, but he has never walked in the alley itself. for some reason, seungcheol felt like something inside of it was calling his name, like it was trying to show him something.

seungcheol, never the one to ignore his instincts, walked down the alley.

and right there, on the left side of the alley, stood a little cozy looking coffee shop, a coffee shop that would forever change his life.

with almost to no thinking, seungcheol walked in.

the inside of the shop looked like something straight out of a movie. fairy lights strung along the edge of the counter, as well as on one of the walls. dark furniture was decorated with dark green accents like pillows and vases on top of the tables. on the left side, the whole wall was just a big shelf filled with books.

seungcheol felt both the moody and mysterious side of this shop, as well as its cozy and comforting side.

as he was looking around, he noticed that there wasn’t anyone around. unsure if he maybe entered during its closed hours, he decided to call out for somebody. with an unsure voice, he uttered “um hello?”

surprisingly, beneath the counter came a sweet voice, “just a moment!”

and really, after a moment, somebody popped out beneath it.

and seungcheol felt his heart come to a stop for a brief moment.

there, behind the counter, appeared what must’ve been an angel.

and then you smiled gently at him.

and the rest was history.

well, not really.

ever since that day, seungcheol has been going to your shop to buy his morning coffee, in hopes that maybe that day your conversation would go beyond him saying his order and wishing you a good day.

but seungcheol must be 13 years old mentally, because he simply can’t talk to you beyond those two topics without blushing like a teenage boy.

never has he ever felt this stupid, it literally made him want to bang his head against the wall in hopes that the force of the banging will maybe split his single remaining braincell into two braincell.

every day, while he was getting ready for work, he would stand in front of his mirror and would repeat the same words like a mantra.

“today is the day. today you will talk to her. today you will pick up your balls from the floor and ask her if she would like to grab a dinner sometimes. today is the day.”

and every day he still wouldn’t do it, no matter how much he would repeat those words.

it has become his routine.

a routine that has been kind of broken today.

because today jeonghan wanted to come with him.

and seungcheol didn’t like that one bit. but trying to stop jeonghan from doing something he dead set his mind on is right behind the word “impossible”.

as they were walking, seungcheol tried to warn his best friend.

“i swear to god jeonghan, do not even thinking about trying something”, seungcheol repeated for the nth time since they’ve met in front of their company.

jeonghan, ever the good friend, rolled his eyes. “relax, i just want to see who got your panties in a twist so much. plus, i havent had a good coffee since our shop closed.”

jeonghan’s words did nothing to calm down seungcheol.

if he knew his best friend even a little bit, he was 101% sure that he was going to do something.

and seungcheol was dreading it.

soon, they walked into the alley and a few second later, into the coffee shop.

you were stood on a ladder on the left side, cleaning the book shelf when they walked in. upon hearing the door open, you turned your head and smiled.

cheol swore he felt his heart fall down to his feet and skyrocket out of his body all in the same second you smiled. and the worst thing-he felt his cheeks get warmer, which only meant one thing, that he was blushing.

“ah i see you brought a friend with you today.” you said as you stepped down the ladder, scanning jeonghan from head to toe.

“u-um well y-yes, or, well, uh, he, uh, invited himself”, seungcheol stuttered out like an idiot and immediately regretted ever waking up today.

you chuckled as you rounded up the counter and got behind, ready to serve your costumers.

jeonghan turned his head in a way you couldn’t see his expression, but cheol certainly did, although he wished he didn’t, because nothing was quite as annoying as seeing that smirk of his.

“wow, it really is as pretty as you said it was”, he says with a smirk, obviously not talking about the shop itself, and cheol feels like not even your tasty coffee will stop him from murdering his best friend.

you chuckle lightly, a hint of blush on your cheeks, and cheol feels his heart squeeze so much that he unconsciously places his hand on top of his chest.

“thank you. now, what may i get you two?”, you say.

the two men place in their orders, jeonghan going first.

as his drink was being finished, jeonghan turned towards cheol. “i’ll wait for you outside.”, he more-so informs him.

cheol, with furrowed eyebrows, just nods at his friend.

“so, here’s your incredibly sweet drink that you for some reason like.”, you joke as you push a cup towards jeonghan.

“thank you.”, he smiles kindly at you, taking his coffee, turning around to exit the shop.

but of course, it wouldn’t be jeonghan if he kept his mouth shut for once in his life.

in the last second, he turned around and asked you “oh has this idiot asked you out already? no? oh well.”, he smiled innocently as he exited the shop this time for real.

cheol felt both the blood from his face drain and the temperature of his cheeks jump exponentially high.

for a second, you both stay silent.

and then he starts word vomiting.

“w-well, what he meant by- by that is that- see, uh, you’re obviously very p-pretty and uh, well, its presumptuous of me to think that you are single but uh, truth be told, you got my attention on the very first day i came in here so uh, i was just- i mean you can feel free to say no but, uh, i-id really like to t-take you out to a dinner, that is if you’re single of course, if not then im really sorry-“

cheol was a little too busy to notice you leaning on the counter, your chin resting on your hand, gentle smile grazing your features.

to stop his adorable rambling, you put his coffee in front of him, still resting on the counter.

and it seems to do the trick, because he stops talking all together and just looks at the coffee.

“on the house.” , you inform him.

just as he was starting to feel the disappointment seep into his bones, you speak up again.

“or well, not really. i’d really like that dinner in return for this free coffee.”, you smile blush-fully.

and so does he.

usually, he’d think of this as the end of the story, but in this case, it was just the beginning.

#svt #svt x reader #seventeen #scoups x reader #scoups #scoups seventeen #choi seungcheol #fypシ #fypage #tumblr fyp #oneshot #fluff

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lilactwilights · 5 months ago

Text

can’t stop thinking about frat gojo finally catching feelings…

it seems the world turns upside down when infamous frat bro, rich heir and resident fuckboy satoru gojo ends up settling down.

there’s collective bewilderment that eventually lands into a generalized sense of skepticism because there’s no way him, of all damn people, chooses to waltz around campus with an all caps BOYFRIEND label slapped into his forehead, and so proudly at that.

it seems to come out of nowhere, too.

well, almost.

(you were discreet, just not enough)

you are no strangers. you have some friends in common and turns out people have seen you around him before, orbiting around each other at parties or academic endeavors at uni. you have been caught getting handsy in some dark corner of a party at least a handful of times or shamelessly exchanging spit in the least crowded places on campus in broad daylight.

a little more than a few people have seen you leave with him to god knows where, gingerly climbing up into his car as the party rages on or after you clock off at your part-time job on campus. they have caught you skipping up the stairs of whatever place together or inconspicuously walk towards the least visible bookshelves at an almost empty library, hand in hand.

more than one have noticed you disappear for a while, together, his arm snaked around your waist like it belongs in there and have witnessed you come back with a slight yet telling stagger in your step and gojo’s lazy yet smug million-dollar smile clueing anyone with two brain-cells on what your impromptu absence entailed.

(allegedly, there have been some sightings of both of you in casual strolls at the park, having dinner at a 24/7 place and sharing ice-cream down the riverside, but there’s no enough proof of all that, so to speak)

it doesn’t mean anything.

because this is nothing more than routine for him, a fleeting adventure for the casual partner in turn and rich entertainment for the eager public consuming tabloids or spreading school gossip.

you aren’t supposed to stay. you aren’t supposed to last more than a few weeks. if they do get a bit flexible and accept the possibility of whatever you share lasting months –as long as it is on and off, because there’s a past record of that— and even if there are considerably less reports of you two sneaking or hiding around dark in favor of casual sightings in less obscure places, you only become a full-fledged anomaly the moment talks about him referring to you as “his girl” to his team, his fellow frat bros —or whoever, really— start spreading about.

It seems the balance of the universe is a bit off when people notice his following list has decreased considerably and click on it only to find an inconceivable absence of all the usernames linked to whoever he had fucked previously. worse, he creates a whole ass story highlight with your initials and a damn stupid heart and daily spams his stories with every picture of you he seems to have on his gallery, which turn out to be many, for some reason.

or when, during a game, he happens to blow a kiss towards the section you are casually sitting at and seems to look for something after the winning score and practically disregards the trophy and the hands reaching for him in favor of holding you and spin you around, still sweaty and flushed and laughing in a picture-perfect shot that does make it to the school papers and the official university sports account.

you quickly become the talk of campus. there’s a sentiment that seems to permeate every conversation beyond the usual mix of doubt, jealousy or surprise when you pass by with your hands entwined.

you are surprised when you finally understand it’s pity.

because the truth is no one believes in satoru. no one believes ‘whatever you have’ will ever work out. why would he willingly tie himself down with anyone that’s not a supermodel or super-rich and throw away all the potential wildness associated with senior year is beyond everyone around you.

he is not boyfriend material. his track record doesn’t help his case and men like him can never successfully commit at such a young age, less with someone that seems to be so different from him and move around circles he has never stepped foot into.

within a few days, most people have decided this is an experimenting phase or a half-assed effort to appease the family that’s rumored to be on his ass for all his unsavory rendezvous. the public consensus seems to be that he will get bored and break up with you soon enough after whatever feeling or result he is after is finally on his grasp again. most are already feeling sorry for you, mocking your naivety or criticizing his heartless proceedings. sometimes all three at the same time.

it seems to affect you, somehow. you hate it, but there are days when all of it makes doubt rear its ugly head and the bitter taste of self-consciousness settles in your tongue. no matter how hard you try, you end up closing in yourself, avoiding the avid eyes eating you both up whenever you go out.

but it’s hard to dwell on all of it when you see who the most fervent believer of your relationship is.

satoru doesn’t seem to be affected by anything. he doesn’t seem to listen to nasty words or ill-intentioned comments, only ever addressing them or shutting them down with a cold fury that only stems from whatever discomfort this provokes on you.

he has always been confident and self-assured and it’s so used to accomplish every single thing his mind has set into. success is on his nature. beyond the privileges and advantages life has gifted him with, satoru is a stubborn, passionate man. his pride is a driving force most of the time and he’ll be damned if the thing he is most proud about doesn’t work out.

because people out there aren’t privy to the late night conversations, the shared jokes and the cosmic compatibility the university blessed you both with. your paths were made to intertwine, he is sure of that. even if all of it started with a stolen kiss and sex that was supposed to be as casual and inconsequential as he was used to, there was no stopping the unexpected evolution of your shared time together. he can list all the things he liked and then loved about you and recount and pinpoint every single moment that lead him to realize that, as cheesy and mortifying as it sounds —or it sounded back then, for him—, you are meant to be.

he wrestled with that notion for months, agonized over the incipient feelings he was not familiar with and avoided even thinking about the implications of a reality he wanted so so hard to run from. but he has never been a coward. he was so close to give up something he hadn’t even tried to reach so he ultimately took a leap of faith.

he jumped right into an abyss he had never been to but he decided you are worth the fall and whatever landing he is met with.

he knows damn well it was hard for you to trust his spiel and his promises about feelings and about trying and he swore himself that if there ever was the tiniest possibility of this ending in heartbreak it wouldn’t be because of him.

so he learns and tries and fails sometimes and it’s so damn frustrating for him because he is not used to make mistakes but he has never been in a real relationship before so everything is new to him and so he is forced to take baby steps when all he wants to do is sprint.

he has stars in his eyes when he talks about all the plans he has for you both. he kisses you with hunger and reverence and whispers in your ear all the reassurances you never told him you needed to hear. he gets overwhelmed when you fuck because, until the sweet heat and warmth of your body, he never knew how it was to mix the fire of primal lust and desperate hunger with the fuel of emotions and vulnerability of so many shared feelings. and god, it’s scary. but he has never felt more satisfied and happy in his life than when you are wrapped in each other during the afterglow.

he gets a taste of insecurity and experiences scorching jealousy for the first time, because he never had the fear of losing anything or anyone at the hands of someone more understanding or compatible or soft or experienced with feelings than him. until you.

he soon finds out that you can push his buttons and pull at his most sensitive strings like no one has ever done. you hold a power over him and that is as infuriating and terrifying as it is exhilarating. he is forced to walk down a line with careful and measured steps, down a path that is as unknown as it is gratifying. he doesn’t know where it will lead or when it will end –if it even does– or if it will become steep or sinuous or keep being as calm as walk in the park you usually stroll at.

people tell him he is not mature enough and that this is not meant to last or even be.

but satoru gojo, the infamous frat boy, rich heir and former fuckboy couldn’t give less of a fuck.

everything feels right when he is with you so he will cling to you as long as you will have him, which is hopefully forever.

(actually, he thinks he might be in love with you. but that’s a whole other thing. it might be too soon to address that one.)

a/n: i LOVE frat gojo. i love when he is a manwhore but i also love to think of him after getting rehabilitated. he would be so WHIPPED because it’s the first time he experiences real feelings. he would be obsessed with his partner, actually. might kinda border on pathological for some and he might scare a few people with how intense he is but, hey, as long as they are both happy. we need more men devastatingly and pathetically whipped.

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x yn #reader insert #x reader #frat gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #fratjo #brain dump #lilac’s garden #lila’s drabbles #word vomit

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misspygmypie · 10 months ago

Text

Beyond Biology

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry Words: 1701 Request: I absolutely love the meet and greet series, can you please write one like Noah felt left out and thinks Lando is not going to love him anymore because he is not his (biological) but his sister is? With a happy ending please. Sorry for my bad English I'm from Argentina Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Despite the loving environment in the Norris household there was an undercurrent of tension that Lando and Y/N had been trying to address. Over the past few weeks Noah had become increasingly withdrawn, refusing invitations to play with Lando and preferring to stay in his room over family activities. It wasn’t lost on Y/N that this change coincided with Maebry’s milestones like her first crawling and first mumbled words, moments that seemed to draw Lando’s attention.

One evening Y/N suggested it was time for the children’s bath. Lando, eager to contribute to the evening routine, volunteered to handle Maebry, knowing how much she enjoyed splashing around in the tub.

When Lando filled the bath with warm water and playful bath toys Noah wandered into the bathroom, hoping to join in. He had been excited to help with Maebry’s bath, thinking it might be a fun way to spend time with Lando.

However, when Noah entered the room, he saw Lando completely absorbed in the task of making his daughter giggle. The young man was making silly faces, floating bath toys in front of her and engaging in playful water splashes that elicited adorable squeals from the baby. Noah watched quietly from the doorway, his enthusiasm waning as he felt like an outsider to this moment.

When Noah slowly approached asking if he could help with anything, Lando just smiled. “Just a few more minutes, Noah. I’m almost done here with Maebry. How about you go pick out a bedtime story for us to read later?”

Noah, feeling disappointed, nodded silently and retreated to the living room. The attention Lando gave to Maebry during bath time seemed to highlight Noah’s sense of being left out.

One morning a few days later when they all gathered for breakfast Lando couldn’t help but notice Noah’s distant demeanor. The boy barely ate any of his cereal, his usual cheerfulness absent. Lando tried to engage him.

“Hey, Noah,” Lando said, slightly concerned, “How about we build something with the Legos later? Maybe a new spaceship or a cool castle?”

Noah shrugged, not meeting Lando’s eyes. “Maybe,” he mumbled, his tone flat.

Y/N, who had been quietly observing, decided it was time for a deeper conversation. After breakfast she took Noah by the hand and led him to a cozy corner of the living room where a soft blanket was draped over a bean bag. She sat down and patted the spot next to her.

“Noah, can we have a chat?” she asked softly.

Noah hesitated, looking slightly uneasy. “Okay,” he said, finally sitting beside his mother.

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart heavy with concern. “I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit quiet and distant lately. You haven’t been as excited to spend time with Lando or join in with the family activities. Is there something on your mind?”

Noah stared at his fidgeting fingers, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I feel like dad loves Maebry more than me. She’s his real daughter and I’m not. Maybe that’s why he’s been spending more time with her.”

Y/N’s heart sank at her son’s words. She took his hand in hers trying to be reassuring. “Noah, love isn’t about who’s biologically related to whom. It’s about the connection we build, the care we give and the moments we share together.”

Noah kept looking at the floor, the doubt still evident in his eyes. “But lately, it feels like dad has been so focused on Maebry, playing with her, taking care of her and I’ve been left out. I don’t know if he still wants to spend time with me.”

Y/N sighed, understanding the weight of Noah’s feelings. “Sometimes, when a new baby comes into the family, it’s easy to feel like the older child is left out. But that’s not because you’re loved any less. Dad’s attention on Maebry right now is because she needs a lot of care as a baby but that doesn’t mean he loves you any less.”

“So, you’re saying it’s just because Maebry is a baby?” Noah asked quietly, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Exactly,” Y/N nodded, brushing a tear from Noah’s cheek. “It’s not about how much love there is, it’s about how we balance our time and attention and sometimes we need to make an extra effort to show that love to everyone in different ways.”

“But what if Lando doesn’t really want to play with me anymore?” the boy asked, still a bit sad.

Y/N squeezed his hand gently. “Lando loves you deeply, Noah. Just because he has to care for Maebry doesn’t mean he’s forgotten about you. It’s important for us to talk about our feelings and not let misunderstandings grow. If you ever feel left out, you need to tell us. We want to make sure you always feel loved and included.”

Noah looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Do you think we could talk to dad about this?”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled softly, relieved that Noah was open to communicating. “It’s important that you share your thoughts with him.”

After sharing a long - and much needed - hug Y/N led Noah back out to the balcony where Lando was setting up a huge pile of Legos. Lando looked up, his face lighting up with a smile.

Noah still looked a bit unsure but Y/N gently nudged him forward. “Why don’t you talk to Dad for a moment before you start?”

Lando noticed the serious undertone in his wife’s voice. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked gently and guided Noah to the seating area while Y/N went back inside to entertain her daughter with a snack and a book.

Noah fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before speaking. “I was talking to Mom, and… I’m worried that maybe you don’t love me as much as Maebry because she’s your real daughter and I’m not.”

Lando’s heart ached hearing those words. For a second he wasn’t sure how to respond, he never thought Noah would even think of such a possibility. He gently placed a hand on Noah’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Noah, I want you to know something very important. Being a parent isn’t just about biology, it’s about how we love and care for each other.”

Noah nodded, his eyes still unsure.

Lando took a deep breath. “When I married your mom and adopted you I made a choice. I chose to be your dad. I chose to love you, protect you and be there for you and that choice is something I will never, ever regret. You mean the world to me, just like Maebry does.”

Noah’s eyes widened and he looked down at the floor, his emotions swirling. “But sometimes it feels like Maebry gets more attention.”

Lando placed a comforting hand on Noah’s back. “Maebry is younger and she needs a lot of care right now. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less important, it just means we have to balance our attention. I promise you, I love you and your sister both so very much and that love grows bigger every day.”

“Really?” Noah’s lip quivered and he looked up at his dad with a hopeful smile.

Lando smiled gently at the boy, trying to put as much love into it as possible. “Really.”

Noah’s worry began to fade as he listened to Lando’s words. He threw his arms around his dad in a tight hug, feeling the reassurance he so desperately needed.

“Thanks, Dad,” Noah whispered, his voice muffled against Lando’s shoulder.

Lando hugged him back, his heart swelling. “Anytime, buddy. Whenever you need to talk or if you’re ever unsure, remember that you’re my first child, Noah, and that means you hold a special place in my heart. Every moment we spend together is precious to me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

A few days later Y/N was out with some of her girlfriends, leaving Lando in charge of bedtime for Noah and Maebry. Lando decided to make it special by setting up a cozy spot in the living room with pillows and blankets, preparing for an evening of storytelling.

He began by reading to Maebry, choosing a vibrant picture book full of colorful illustrations. Lando’s animated voice and playful expressions made Maebry giggle and reach for the pictures. Noah, holding his favorite bedtime story, watched from the edge of the blanket fort, feeling increasingly left out as Lando’s attention again was entirely on Maebry.

After finishing with Maebry, he gently lifted her from the blankets and placed her in her crib. He then turned to Noah with a warm smile. “How about we turn your favorite story into a special adventure tonight?”

Noah looked up, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean, Dad?”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “We’ll use the blanket fort as our magic castle. I’ll be the storyteller and you’ll help me make the adventure come alive. What do you think?”

Noah’s face brightened, his sadness fading. “That sounds fun!”

Lando helped Noah into the blanket fort, arranging the pillows and turning on a small flashlight to create some extra magic. He began reading Noah’s favorite story about a brave knight and a dragon. He asked Noah to help with sound effects like the dragon’s roar and the knight’s sword clashing.

The longer they read, the more of Noah’s initial shyness melted away. He joined in, making the story come to life together with his dad. At the end of the story, Lando wrapped up with a triumphant finale where the knight saved the kingdom. He looked at Noah and said, “You were an amazing knight tonight.”

“Thanks, Dad. I had a lot of fun!” Noah smiled brightly at his father who pulled him into a tight hug.

“I love you, Noah and even though Maebry needs extra care right now, that doesn’t change how important you are to me. We’ll always have these special moments.”

With their special bedtime adventure complete, Lando helped Noah get tucked into bed, promising more adventures in the future and Noah drifted off to sleep feeling loved and cherished.

________

AN: First of all Anon, your English is amazing!!! Sending so much love to Argentina. I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

#lando imagine #lando norris imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando angst #lando x noah #lando norris x reader #ln4 x reader #lando x reader #lando x maebry

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birdiely · 5 months ago

Text

Routine Checkup

wow this is my first tk fic in?? 3 years?? blows away dust from my blog

this fic and my blog are STRICTLY sfw. fetishists begone I hate you

ler!Ford, lee!Bill

3.3k words

Ford is doing a routine checkup on Bill now that he's human. However, a discovery gets them both a little distracted.

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Being human is difficult.

Now, Bill had been in a human body before, he was no stranger to their softness and their fragility. But he was in no way prepared to feel any of that softness for himself.

It was beyond frustrating to not have his powers, but it was even worse that this useless bag of bones couldn't even perform basic tasks. While possessing a body he had full control over its every action, but now his fine motor skills were almost non-existent. His fingers refused to bend to his will. He could barely lift anything without his arms shaking. And don't even get him started on depth perception.

But emotions were his least favorite part of being human. He never realized just how physical human emotions were. Anger is no longer just anger, but a burning in his chest, flushing in his cheeks, tense muscles.

Crying was his least favorite symptom of human emotions; the overwhelming heartache, the shaking and heaving, the leaking from his eyes and nose. All of it was terrible.

It was all almost too much at times.

That part was confusing too. The way his body managed to simultaneously get overwhelmed by too many sensory inputs, and also crave sensory input more than anything was driving him up a wall.

Bill's thoughts were brought to an abrupt stop by a loud knock on the door. He nearly jumped out of his skin. He wished he actually had, but unfortunately it clung to him. He scrambled to a more “natural” position, trying to look like he wasn't just balling his eyes out.

He had perched himself on the top of a tall bookshelf in one of the back rooms of the shack, not unlike a cat. He had his knees to his chest, and his face buried in his knees, but quickly repositioned himself.

The door creaked open without another knock or warning. Stanford stood in the doorway, scanning the room for a second for Bill before spotting him in the corner.

“Get down from there,” Ford said, gesturing with his hand. Bill sighed loudly and dramatically. He used his hands as leverage and carefully climbed down the shelf. He landed on the floor with a small thump.

Ford turned and walked out of the room, holding the door open expectantly for Bill. He meandered behind him, slouching as he followed him. Ford led them both out of the room and through the house, Bill knew where they were going, they had done this 100 times before since he became human.

He couldn't say he was too surprised, Ford has always been paranoid. He had lived in the Mystery Shack for months now, and almost everyone had gotten used to him being around by now. He used to stop conversations dead in their tracks just by entering a room, but now no one hardly notices him at all. He liked it better that way; it made him feel uncomfortable and uneasy when everyone would turn to stare at him, and although not being noticed at all also doesn't feel great, it's much preferred to the terrible feeling of being perceived.

So for the past few months that he's been there, Ford made it a routine to conduct what he called “weekly vitals assessments.” Bill hated them. Every week Ford would rip him away from whatever he was doing to lock him up in some other room for an hour and poke and prod at him. They used to exclusively be done in the basement laboratory, but eventually Ford got comfortable enough with Bill being in the house that they moved to one of the spare rooms on the main floor.

Ford opened the door and the pair walked in. He blindly pawed at the wall for a second before he found the light switch. The small room buzzed to life with a yellow hue. Ford closed the door behind them.

Bill walked all the way into the room and took a seat on the couch against the wall. Ford walked ominously toward him with a clipboard in hand. He paused in front of Bill, staring down at his notes with a furrowed brow. Bill didn't like the way he towered over him in this position.

“Do we really have to do this?” Bill asked.

“Yes.” Ford answered quickly, setting his clipboard on the couch next to Bill.

Bill's eyes were glued to the floor. He lifted his legs up a little so he cohld dangle them back and forth off the couch. His heels clashed against the base of the couch harsher than Ford was comfortable with, but he said nothing.

He took Bill's arm in his hand, pulling it straight. Bill's face scrunched up in discomfort as Ford wrapped a large hand around his thin forearm, with his other hand he placed a couple of fingers over his radial vein. They waited in silence for a few seconds before Ford retracted himself, picking back up his clipboard and writing something down. “Heart rate is a little high, but within normal range…” he mumbled to himself. He looked up from his clipboard and set it and his pen on the nearby desk.

“Lie down,” he said.

Bill threw his head back with an exasperated guttural noise.

“I won't take long,” Ford reassured. “It will be even quicker if you cooperate,” There was a hint of a tease in that last sentence that made Bill huff.

He rolled his eye but acquiesced, pulling his legs up onto the couch and slowly repositioned himself so that he could lie his head on the arm. He felt a little too exposed like this, and shifted awkwardly, uncomfortably vulnerable under Ford's gaze.

Ford sat down towards the middle of the couch near Bill's hips, twisting himself to face the other. Bill threw him a confused look.

Two large hands came down and rested themselves on Bill's stomach, the lightness of the touch made him flinch before they pressed in. For just a second, a jolting feeling spread across his nerves. But as Ford added more pressure to his probing, it faded slightly, not nearly as intense as before but still very much there.

Ford lifted his hands from one spot and quickly landed on another. Again, as his fingers made contact with his skin, though still covered by fabric, his nerves lit up with something buzzing. He gasped quietly, and Ford glanced up at him, briefly examining his face before continuing. He hummed to himself in thought as he felt around Bill's organs.

Each massage into his flesh, each slight movement and repositioning of his fingers, brought with it something intense and new. Bill's breath was hitched and uneven, his hands gripped onto the couch as if he would fly away if he let go.

“Where does it hurt?” Ford asked calmly, watching Bill's face.

“It-it doesn't hurt,” Bill answered, voice strangled.

“You don't have to lie.”

“I'm not-! It doesn't hurt, it just feels weird.”

Ford paused, removing his hands from Bill so he could fold them over his own chest. He watched with a curious eye as Bill deflated into the couch. He hummed and tapped his finger over his arm.

“Define weird,” he prompted, looking him over carefully for any other signs of discomfort, for anything Bill wasn't telling him.

“It feels like,” he paused and stared up at the ceiling in thought, gathering his words. “Like I'm being electrocuted.”

“Being electrocuted?!” Ford echoed, visibly taken aback. His eyes widened in shock and his face twisted in concern. He was barely touching him, nothing he did should have felt anywhere near electrocution. Did Bill have some sort of nerve damage? Or a hypersensitivity caused by some otherworldly disorder?

Hesitantly, he placed a hand back onto Bill, gently massaging just as he was before. Bill jumped dramatically with another gasp and quickly reached to grab his wrists. They looked at each other for a long second, Ford had stopped but there was still a tenseness in Bill that made him worried something may be seriously wrong.

His face softened however, on seeing the wobbly smile worming its way across Bill's features. Every worry and theory flew right out the window in favor of the much more obvious, and frankly hilarious, answer. He just barely fought off a smile of his own.

And an idea crept into his head. Something mean presented itself to Ford and lit up his thoughts like a light bulb, until it was all he could think about. He was glad that Bill could no longer read his mind.

“Well,” he started, pushing up his glasses and hardening his expression, trying hard not to wear his thoughts on his sleeve. “I'll have to conduct further examinations until we get to the bottom of this.”

Bill twisted his face in an odd way. “You think there's something wrong?” He asked.

“Well, I have a hypothesis, yes. However I will have to run a few experiments just to be sure.” He cleared his throat to choke out the chuckle threatening to bubble out of him.

Bill really had no idea about the human body. Not like he thought he did. He was rather naive in that regard, believing just about anything Ford told him with enough assertiveness. He wondered if that's what he was like 30 years ago.

Shaking the thought from his mind, he hovered his hands just above Bill's middle. The older stiffened, trying to suck in his stomach in a feeble attempt to squirm away from Ford's looming fingers.

He nearly choked when they landed down on his stomach. One hand gently kneading and the other poking had him doing everything in his power to swallow down all of the embarrassing noises threatening to spill out of him. He bit down on his lip and his hand flapped uselessly next to him; anything to handle the overwhelming buzzing.

Ford walked his fingers across Bill, choosing a new spot to terrorize and earning a thin whine. One hand rested on his side, and Ford was startled by the sudden jolt and gasp from Bill.

“Interesting…” Ford commented, focusing his attention on the newfound spot. Bill squirmed and his leg shook. Ford switched to poking his side. Bill squeaked, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. He squirmed and tried to wriggle his torso away. Wide eyes were locked onto Ford’s offending fingers. Little puffs of half snickers and choked down noises just barely escaped his lips.

Without warning, Ford suddenly wrapped his whole hand around Bill and started squeezing. He jolted upward, briefly doubling in on himself before falling back down. He barked out a loud laugh, twisting this way and that. Jack pot.

“Very interesting,” Ford added. “Alright, so-” slowing his hands to a stop, he did his best to put on a more neutral voice; like he was conducting a very serious experiment and not tickling Bill half to death. “-tell me which is worse. Here?” He vibrated a couple fingers into Bill's stomach, earning a shrill yelp and a snort. “Or here?” He brought up his right hand to continue squeezing his side, and Bill threw his head back as he cackled.

“Thehehehere! Naha- that's soho much wohohohohorse!”

“Noted,” Ford said, abandoning his stomach to squeeze both sides. Bill squealed and his legs shot up to his chest, almost hitting Ford in the back of the head on their way. A smile broke out on Ford's features watching the way Bill's legs kicked in the air.

“Try to hold still,” he said, taking his arm and gently coaxing his legs back down on the couch.

“I cahahahahan’t!”

Ford chuckled and quickly switched from squeezing to vibrating. Bill screwed his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth. Ford moved one of his hands away completely, bringing it down to settle on his hip. Bill twitched under the touch, and squealed when Ford started vibrating a couple of fingers in a particularly sensitive cluster of nerves.

“Stoahahaha! Nahahaha!” He dug his fingers into his hair, anything to help deal with the sensory overload. Although, interestingly enough to Ford, in all his flailing and thrashing, he never once tried to pull his hands away.

Eventually, Ford slowed his hands to a stop, and waited for Bill to catch his breath before speaking.

“Well, Bill, I have to admit-” Bill looked up at him with a half lidded eye, watching him reposition himself to be straddling his hips.

“What are you doing?” Bill sat up a little, eyebrows furrowed.

“-I haven't been completely honest with you,” Ford continued.

“What are you saying? Is there nothing wrong with me?”

“Bill, are you familiar with knismesis and gargalesis?”

Bill only stared at him, tilting his head slightly.

“Both are neurological phenomena in the part of the brain that processes touch,” Ford began to explain, much to Bill's boredom. “Knismesis is a light irritation of the skin,” as he spoke he ran his blunt nails over Bill's bare arms in a feather light motion, making him shiver and squirm away. “However gargalesis is a much more intense sensory process involving the repeated application of high pressure in sensitive areas.” Again, as he spoke he demonstrated on Bill. This time he vibrated his knuckles into his ribs.

Bill shrieked before giving way to another bout of loud, high pitched laughter. He tried to twist away from it, but found it much more difficult with Ford sitting on him like this.

“Gehehet ohohohoff!” He shrieked.

“You know,” he paused his hands, starting to roll up Bill's shirt. He shivered in the cold air. “Since we're already doing a vitals assessment, I'd quite like to make sure your…axolotl, was it? Gave you the appropriate number of rib bones.”

“So do you wanna say that like a normal person or ar- EEK! Ahahaha! No, dohohon't do thahahat!”

Ford vibrated his fingers into Bill's bottom rib bone. “Oneee…” he stretched out his counting, a smirk evident in his tone despite how screwed shut Bill's eyes were. “Twoo…”

“Knock ihit ohohohoff!” Bill threw his head back, arching into Ford's fingers. All of his thrashing successfully thwarted Ford for a second. His thoughtful hum washed away any momentary relief, quickly replacing it with excited dread.

“Bill, you really need to stay still, I'm trying to conduct a very serious experiment here,” he said. Bill groaned but the few giggles that peaked through made it lose its edge. “Well now I've completely lost count, I'll have to start over.” Bill's eyes shot open, now wide with shock. He shook his head in fervent protest, big smile never leaving his face.

He howled with laughter when Ford landed his buzzing fingertips back on his sensitive ribs. The higher up Ford got the worse the sensation became, and try as he might, Bill couldn't stop himself from twisting and turning.

Ford sighed, stopping his hands. “I don't know how you expect me to gain any accurate data from this with all your squirming.” He placed his hands on Bill's hips, steadying him. Bill flinched. “Now, where was I? That's odd, I can't recall. Oh well, I'll just start over.”

“NohohohOHOHO!”

The next couple minutes felt like hours. He tried as hard as he could to stay still. That terrible buzzing kept getting worse and worse, but the threat of Ford completely starting over a third time, and counting so agonizingly slow kept him in place.

He gripped onto the couch cushions so hard Ford thought his nails might tear a hole in the fabric. Tears of mirth stung the corners of his eye. His mind and body fought with each other in a frustrating game of tug o’ war. Every nerve lit up in an electrifying sensation, one that seemed to consume his every thought. It was completely and totally overwhelming. It seemed like every nerve in his body was screaming for relief all at once. And yet, a louder scream wanted more.

It was too much. It wasn't nearly enough.

Ford only stopped when he finally reached 12. Bill thought he might have died a second time.

“Well that side is correct. I wonder about this other side,” Bill shot up like a corpse being raised from the dead, gripping on Ford's wrist before he even attempted to tickle him again.

“24! I hahave 24 I swehehear!”

Ford chuckled. Placing a hand on Bill's chest he gently led him back down. “Alright, alright. I'll take your word for it,” he said, deciding to take pity.

Hesitantly, Bill lay back down. Ford readjusted his shirt–it had fallen back down when he sat up–raising it back to where he wanted it in a gesture that made Bill's pathetic human heart pound with anticipation.

“Do you have your ‘data’ now, Sixer?” he opted to cover up his (hopefully not as apparent as it felt it was) nervousness with a venomous quip.

“Hmm, almost. Let me try this one last thing,’ Ford replied. Bill whined as his wiggling fingers came closer to his middle despite himself.

Ford was light, so light he wasn't sure he was even touching him. He delicately fluttered and spidered all 12 fingers over his stomach, intending to give him a break with the lightness. Instead, Bill squealed and bucked and laughed harder than he has this whole time.

“WAHAIT WAHAHAHAHAIT!”

Ford was shocked for a second before the ridiculousness of the situation caught up with him and laughed almost as hard as Bill.

“Ahare you serious?!”

“SHUHUT UHUHUHUHUP!”

“Bill, I'm barely touching you.” Bill didn't respond to that, shaking his head wildly.

Ford slowed down a bit. He walked his fingers over Bill's stomach at an agonizingly slow pace. Tiptoeing from his hips to his ribs and then back down in a cycle that had Bill's head spinning.

“THIHIS IS TOHOHORTURE!”

“Good, you love torture.”

“At leHEHEAST stohop going so slohohow?”

“I'm conducting an experiment here, Bill. Slow and steady is just the right pace.”

“It's sohOHOHO BAHAD! YOU DOHON'T GEHET IT!”

Ford chortled. “I've been tickled before, Bill. I understand just fine.”

Bill snorted and covered his eyes with his arm to hide himself. His other harm latched firmly onto Ford's wrist, but not making any attempt to move it away.

“Alright, I have a question and I want you to answer honestly.” He stopped momentarily and Bill gasped for breath like he was drowning.

“Which is worse?”

“Dohohon't.”

“This?” he squeezed Bill's side and he snorted, trying to curl in on himself and leaning his body away from it.

“Or this?” Ford brought up his other hand to gently spider across the other side. Bill shrieked before his laughter went silent completely. He frantically tapped Ford's hand that was spidering.

“Can you even speak right now?” Ford asked, amused. Bill shook his head.

However, he seemed to get his voice back when Ford stopped squeezing and instead started spidering both sides at once. He squealed and erupted with hysterical laughter.

“GOHOHO SOMEWHEHERE EHEHEHEHELSE!”

“Oh, that's interesting. ‘Go somewhere else’, not ‘stop’?”

“MOHOHOVE YOUR HAHAHANDS! PLEHEHEASE!”

“Oh, alright, alright.”

He stopped entirely, watching Bill as he melted into the couch beneath him. He panted hard as he moved to wipe away some of the tears with the ball of his palm.

Ford tried to smooth his hands over his middle but was quickly grabbed by Bill, starting up another giggle fit.

“relahax, I'm helping.”

Bill groaned but did relax, quickly becoming a puddle under the gentle touch.

When he was sure Bill had completely calmed down Ford moved off of him.

“Well, I'd say that was a successful experiment, hm?” As he stood to leave the room, satisfied with his work, he felt Bill grab his wrist.

“Wait a minute, Sixer.” Ford turned back to him, perplexed. “A minute ago you said you'd been-…also…experienced gargalesis.” Bill didn't think the human form could turn that shade of red.

“Did I?” he chuckled nervously. “Well- well I-um. You know it's getting late, and I'm sure you're tired so why don't we-” he tried to pull his hand away, but Bill's grip only tightened. He raised his eyebrows at Ford.

“Bill, come on now. Let's be reasonable here, we can talk about thihihihis. Nohoho! Wahahait!”

Being human is difficult. But maybe there were some things that made it bearable.

#gravity falls #tickle fic #bill cipher #the book of bill #sfw tickling #ford pines #ler!ford #ler!fordpines #lee!bill #lee!billcipher

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moonlitcelestial · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 23

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 17,339

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 22)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer. This story will follow several of the events that Ateez have done in the past year for Golden Hour Part 2, that being said I will not be able to include everything.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards linked above (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Chaos, mentions of a panic attack (not reader) and a little bit of spice.

This one is a long chapter 😅 Let me know what you think! <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

You woke up with a start after falling in a dream. You glanced over and smacked your phone out of habit and realized that one, it wasn't going off and two, that you fell asleep with your glasses on. With a slight readjustment you could see better, albeit it was never 100%. You laughed at the boys' comments on your pictures from last night.

Because you were up early you could soak in the bathtub for a little bit and take off the plastic covering your tattoo. After a thorough soak in the tub and the gentle but painful peeling at the bandaid you moved around the space of your room and started your morning routine. When you were finished you put on the suit with the small slits on the bottom of your legs. When you checked yourself in the mirror you smiled at how professional you looked and felt.

The studio she chose was about a five minute walk from where you were staying. When you walked in you were met with the usual chaos of photoshoots that were very close to their runway debut. The makeup artists were scattered around doing touch ups on the three models while the stylists were arguing about which outfits to do first. Kim Bekker was coming out of one of the rooms off to the side, as soon as she caught sight of you she approached. She gave you a polite greeting and threw an exaggerated glare over her shoulder when one of the stylists got a little too loud.

“Please excuse the chaos, Y/n. We are absolutely thrilled you chose to come back and assist us with the newest line.” Kim was smiling radiantly at you as she approached.

“I have always loved working with you and Isabel so it was an easy choice on my end.”

“Y/n dear how are you?” You looked up to the woman who spoke. Isabel. Her hair was beautifully gray and styled perfectly. The smile on her face was contagious as she approached the pair of you with open arms. You accepted her hug and she looked you over after you separated.

“I’m doing well, you look amazing as always. How is the fashion life treating you?” She smiled at you and rolled her eyes lightly. You and her had always gotten along very well. She sometimes would call you personally to come do some of the shoots for her; especially with an event as big as men's fashion week.

“You flatter me. It has been going very well until the chaos started in preparation for these past few weeks. I have been running around like a crazy person.”

“I believe it, but the glimpses I have seen of the outfits look amazing. I can't wait to see how they come together.” You both stepped away from each other and started wandering around the set.

“Oh you'll like the theme we have this year, it is very rock-esque.” You looked over to her as she walked you back to the outfits that were being fiddled with by her assistants. The first thing you saw was the red and black outfits. It reminded you of your boys; they would have liked this line. You took a minute to look over the three men you would be taking the pictures of, their makeup artists had done an amazing job of bringing out their features.

“The floor is yours whenever you would like to begin Y/n.” You nodded to Isabel and started toward the set you would be shooting in. As soon as you walked in you saw some more of the crew setting things up and getting the lighting just right. It was absolute pandemonium in here, you almost couldn't watch how rough they were with the equipment. You made your way back into the other room and started getting yourself set up.

The black dual harness was the first thing you put on, then the lens holders got clipped around the straps of the harness. Finally you attached both of your cameras. When you had everything situated where it needed to be you looked over everyone. It was still almost too loud in here. You put your middle finger and thumb into your mouth to let out a sharp whistle to get everyone’s attention. It worked exactly as you wanted it to, everyone froze and looked over to you, even some of the people that were setting up in the other room.

“Good morning everyone, I’m Onyx, the designated picture snapper for today. I would like to get started as soon as we can so we can get as much time as possible for the shoots before the show later.” You looked over the models and the makeup artist who nodded along with you.

“I will be relying on the stylists to have each change of outfit ready to go as soon as the boys are finished and Isabel is happy with the results. If there are group shots it will be your job to coordinate them as I have not seen the entirety of the outfits before. I do not care if there is an order or not because all of the outfits will be getting their pictures taken, please act accordingly and do not get into bickering matches over the outfits and their order.” You shot a small glare over to the stylists who had been vehemently arguing earlier. They nodded to you just like the others did.

“With all of that being said, I look forward to working with all of you. Let's make this day go as smoothly as possible for us and for Isabel; who we all know needs a bit of calm within the chaos of Men’s Fashion Week.” There were a couple of cheers of excitement and a grateful smile from both Kim and Isabel. You made your way into the main portion of the building and waited a couple of minutes for the models. As soon as they stepped into the room you guided them into the set. With quick precision you gave them instructions about what they could do for the pictures. The three men caught on quickly and you were smiling and joking with them in no time, just like all of the rest of your clients.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

Most of your morning continued the same way, only having three models that you were doing pictures for made life so much easier. You had finished in a good amount of time to be able to rest before having to pack up and make your way over to the runway. You sent a picture of yourself holding your cameras to your group chat and they exploded with notifications of how good you looked and some of the boys asking how everything was going. You replied the best that you could to all of them before shutting off your phone and getting up. When you came out of the small break room there were still a couple of people here. Isabel being one of them.

“Y/n, do you need a ride over to the venue?”

“I had planned on catching a cab so I should be good.”

“Nonsense, you’ll ride with me and Kim.” Your eyes widened slightly at the demand in Isabel’s tone. She gave you a quick smile and motioned for you to follow her. You quickly followed and were met with a beautiful looking limo. The driver was already waiting for her and gave you a quizzical look as you also approached. You shrugged your shoulders at the man and he smiled at you, almost like he knew her games. When you settled into the seats she offered you a large smile. Kim had taken up residence next to Isabel and watched the two of you quietly.

“So, I have a question for you, my esteemed photographer.”

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all, but go on.” The two of them laughed and Kim handed you a small water which you gladly accepted.

“I know you have been doing well in the business out in Seoul. I trust your eye within the fashion industry, you know the arts and how they work. I have been meaning to ask since the last time we spoke but I haven’t had the chance. So I was wondering if you had any recommendations for people that would suit the style of my lines.”

Your eyes almost bugged out of your head and the sip of water you took nearly choked you. This was not something you could have ever expected from anyone, let alone one of the top fashion designers in the industry. You made sure to slowly swallow the water that almost ended up on the two women in front of you. There was one person that immediately came to mind, there also may have been a couple of others but they didn’t quite suit her style. “I have several people that I could recommend, but if I could choose someone who would do well with your style it would have to be Seonghwa Park with Ateez. He has an effortless beauty to him and he excels in genderless fashion, he would be an amazing asset to your model lines, and your brand.”

“An interesting choice, I will look into him.” She smiled softly at you and turned to look at her phone which had been going off nonstop since she got into the car.

Holy shit could this be real? A conversation of that magnitude just left like that. Fuck around.

You were in the car only for a couple more minutes before you reached your destination. As soon as you stepped out of the car you were almost swarmed by people that had already been lining up for the show. Some were shouting, others were shoving, it was absolute chaos. You switched your bag around to be in front of you as you made your way through the crowd. Isabel and Kim weren't too far behind you with a couple of men by their side. When you finally made it inside you let out a breath of relief. There were people running around and setting up chairs in the outside portion of the venue. Several stylists approached you and Isabel before you could make it past the front tables.

She was swept away from you and you followed the line of people to the outdoor space. When you stepped out you were met with people scrambling around trying to get the final touches done so they could do a small dress rehearsal. Without thinking you set your bag and blazer on a small bench off to the side and jumped in to help. Some of the people looked at you odd, others looked at you with thankful glances. You ended up helping for the next thirty minutes until it was perfect. Out of the corner of your eye you could have sworn someone was watching you. You paid it no mind as you grabbed your things to make your way to where you would be getting your shit together for the show.

The chaos was nowhere near as bad as Louis Vuitton had been but it was still chaos. Weaving in and out of the flow of moving bodies was almost second nature to you now. There were a couple of smiles you got from some of the models you recognized as you walked. Your setup in the back room was fairly quick and you immediately went back out into the storm.

When you stepped in you started moving around to get some behind the scenes shots for Isabel, she was one of the few people that liked when you did that. Before too long the back room was almost empty as they had begun the dress rehearsal. You watched from the spot you would be in as they were getting things taken care of. Most of the models were locked in professional mode, a couple of times you made faces at them to see if you could get a reaction out of them. They all let out small huffs of laughter, you knew they were filled with nervous energy, if you could help alleviate some of that you would. Almost every time they passed you gave them a thumbs up which made their facade crack just slightly. Someone was rooting for them, someone was looking at the people behind the outfits; which is what Isabel strived to achieve. That was why the two of you worked together so well.

Just a little while after rehearsal was done your stomach growled. You looked down at it like the damn thing was alive before pulling out your phone to see if anything looked good that you could order. Just as you were about to call a small restaurant someone called your name. You whipped around and were met with Kim. She had a small bag in her hand and offered it to you when she got close enough.

“Courtesy of Isabel. I had your order from last time saved so I hope you still like it” You took the bag from her with a grateful smile. It smelled absolutely delicious.

“Thank you, I was just about to call to order food.” She nodded at you and walked away before you could say anything else. You walked over to have a seat away from everyone else. Unpacking the bag made your stomach growl again, with a light laugh you started eating. Throughout the meal a couple of the staff had stopped by to thank you for helping earlier. You waved them off and told them something along the lines of, the quicker things get done the less we have to worry about it later.

When you had finished eating, found a nearby trash can and threw your things away. When you turned around you were met with the smiling face of one of the male models. You jumped back slightly and he just continued smiling.

“Hi, I’m sorry I scared you but you’re Onyx right?” Shit did you forget your name tag? You looked down and let out an inaudible sigh of relief, you hadn’t forgotten. He glanced down where your eyes caught and immediately his face got a little red.

“Yeah, that’s me. Is there something I can help you with?”

“I was just wanting to introduce myself. I have followed your photography page for a while and love some of the work you have done, especially with the cats on your page.”

“Ohh, gotcha. Well Hi, I’m Onyx, as we have previously established. What's your name?” You held your hand out for him to shake and he took it.

“I’m Alexandre. If you don’t mind me asking, are the three big cats on your page yours?”

“Yeah, they’re my Maine Coons, Toothless, Mocha and Beans.”

“That’s so cool! I’m an avid lover of cats, so to meet someone who loves them too makes me so happy!” You let out a small laugh at his excitement.

“Finding them is few and far in between that’s for sure. What kind of cat do you have?”

“I have a bengal named Ben. He’s a little bit of an arse but he is super sweet.” He pulled out his phone and showed you a picture of the beautiful creature. You and he chatted for the next little bit about the many things that your cats did. It was right about then that San had messaged you with another video of the giants screaming at him in the kitchen. With a laugh you showed Alexandre. He cooed at your large children. Before you could even fathom the frame flipped to show San with a large smile on his face with the cats yelling in the background.

“You see what I have to deal with jagi?” The small gasp from Alexandre alerted you that he may have known who San was. You really should have fully watched the video before showing it to him.

“Is that—” before he could finish the thought you locked your phone.

“It might be, but he is just watching out for my cats, it's no big deal.” You were really hoping with everything you had in you that he couldn’t understand Korean.

“You know K-pop idols?”

“Yeah, I primarily work for them up in Seoul, doing fashion shoots is just something else under the large umbrella that I cover.”

“Wait, so you have met Ateez? And know them well enough that San, the resident cat lover, is watching your cats for you while you are here?”

“Yeah, something like that” You let out a small awkward chuckle, “I’ve been working with them for a while and when it came up that I needed a cat sitter he offered cause he misses his Byeol”

“Awh, Byeol, she is so precious. I wish we had more pictures of her.”

“Me too, so I take it you’re an Atiny?”

“Oh yeah, any time I get the chance I go see them for their shows. I might not be as avid as some people but their music is so much fun to listen to. How could I not like them, you know?”

“Yeah, that’s understandable.” Your eyes caught on someone approaching the two of you. As soon as Alexandre realized your eyes caught something behind him he turned around.

“We’ve been looking for you Alex, you’re needed so we can go over your outfits one more time before the show,” The woman, who you could assume was a stylist by the measuring tape hanging around her neck, had gently steered him away from you. Before he got too far he waved at you, which you returned.

Holy shit that was close. You shook your head and started moving toward where they were getting ready. With every opportunity you got you would be taking pictures, the people getting ready, the people steaming outfits, and Isabel who was doing some last minute changes. The guests should be arriving any minute now, the only thing you could do at this point was go and wait.

While you were standing in your designated spot several people came up to you and complimented your work, some of them had been people that you saw yesterday and others were complete strangers. Your mind tracked into no man's land as you were waiting. You wondered how long it took these people to get ready for an event like this, and then your mind trailed to if they sang in the shower while they got ready. The music started echoing throughout the open area and you straightened falling into professional mode. As Isabel came out you snapped several pictures of her, as did the other photographers in your midst.

The majority of the afternoon had carried on that way, your smile at the models had been constant. Some of them offered you a fractured glimpse of their gratefulness for your support. You were most likely the only one that caught it but as long as they knew they were appreciated you didn’t care.

When you had finished the runway you were whisked into cars with some of the other models and toted to the summer eyewear dinner. All of you had animatedly chatted about how well everything went. On more than one occasion you had told them you were proud of them which prompted a round of mostly concealed blushing. The smile never left your face as you entered the building with the models. Isabel and Kim had somehow gotten here before you did and were already making their rounds.

All of you split up and were waiting to do the photo shoots until Isabel had given the go ahead. You had mingled and handed out several business cards to other brand representatives. You sprinkled in taking more pictures as you wandered around the room, everyone was having fun; how could you not. When the time finally came for the official photoshoot you politely excused yourself from the small conversation someone pulled you into and made your way over to the designated spot. She made a small announcement to the people before you were given the go ahead to start doing your thing. What felt like minutes was actually hours, before you knew it you were helping tear things down at the end of the night. With everyone helping it didn't take you very long.

As you were saying your goodbyes after packing up your backpack Isabel approached you with a decent sized box. When you saw her coming you knew you were in for something that you really didn't need. You watched her approach you with a tilt of your head, she was just smiling at you as she held out the box. “Here, as a thank you for all you did today.”

You gently took the box and opened it, inside was a glasses case and a beautiful black leather jacket. You looked up at her with wide eyes. “Isabel I can't accept this, it's far too much.” You attempted to hand it back to her but she gently pushed it back into your hands.

“I would like for you to continue to work with us in the future, that means I have to treat you right in the present. Please take it, I'll be offended if you don't.” she gave you that look, one that you couldn't refuse. You set the box aside on a bench close to you and grabbed the glasses case. Inside there was a set of Isabel Marant sunglasses, but If you knew her collection there weren't any like these at all.

“Isabel, are these customs?” You looked up from the beautiful black with silver accent sunglasses that would fit over your normal glasses. She was looking at you with a wide smile which was all the answer you needed.

“Something for my favorite photographer, I know you have to struggle finding good pairs that have a decent lifetime so I figured why not give you some that I know are good quality. And you could be showing off my brand every time you wear them, it's really a win-win for the both of us. Also, that jacket is a part of one of my newest collections, I know it is your style so I wanted you to have it.” You couldn't believe that she would have gone this far for you. Of course you had seen how she treats others but being on the receiving end of it was something else entirely. You closed the case and pulled her into a hug, which she gladly accepted.

“Thank you, you really didn't have to do this. I truly appreciate it and cannot wait to continue working with you in the future.” She pulled away from you and put her hands on your shoulders.

“You are an amazing photographer, you have taken good care of me thus far and it was past time for me to do the same for you.” Your smile widened as you looked at her. With a small nod at you and a goodbye she took her leave. With gentle hands you took the presents she gave you and left back for your hotel.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

As soon as you walked into your room you set down the box and started jumping around like a mad woman. Having and making connections like the one you had with Isabel was something you had always wanted for yourself, and by extension your company. If words could have described the emotions you were feeling in that moment it would be overwhelming joy. You looked at the jacket, it was beautiful. The dark leather was soft, it had an asymmetrical look to it which is something you have always admired. It would be something that you would be able to wear on Ink. That might be the first thing you do when you get back. There was still a little bit of daylight out, and ever since you had gone on the walk and ran into the piano you had been craving to play. You changed out of your suit and threw on one of your comfortable outfits which consisted of a longer skirt with a slit up the thigh, a matching crop top and your beyond the lens ballcap. With a smile you made your way out and back the familiar way to the piano you saw yesterday.

When you got there no one was playing, you gladly took the seat and flourished like you normally did. You set up your phone on the side of the piano facing your hands like you always had when not playing at home. It first started so you could send it to your Granny, other times you used it to post on your private socials for friends and family to hear. When you started you had a smile on your face, all of the songs that came to mind were going to be love based, who cared if it was cliche. You started off by playing Golden Hour, something that you had continuously heard throughout your time on piano tiktok. Without missing a beat you fell into more songs. You continued into Perfect by Ed Sheeran, All of Me by John Legend, Girls like you by Maroon 5, Shut up and Dance by Walk the Moon, and Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis. Throughout the entire thing you had started gathering a crowd, your heart was overflowing with everything surrounding you. The majority of them had been singing and dancing along to the music while you let it take your body. You were swaying and laughing with the people surrounding you. There was one particular couple that you recognized, one that was newly engaged. You could tell they recognized you, they had been the closest to the piano while you played each of the songs. Before you could melt into another one the woman approached you.

“Could you maybe play a song for us?” You nodded to her with a large smile. “Do you know Rewrite the Stars?”

If your smile could have gotten bigger it would have, it was an excellent choice. With a nod you started the intro to the song. Before you could get too far you saw someone approaching the piano; it was someone you would recognize anywhere. Your eyes met and it was something out of a fairytale. Your world zeroed in on him, his face was mostly covered; but just like always his eyes gave him away. He was watching you as you played and he sang, and before you could stop yourself you joined him; it was one of your favorite musical numbers after all. It may not have been absolutely perfect but the reaction on his face was. His eyes widened at you while you sang with him. Everything intensified, you could feel your heartbeat; which may have been pounding out of your chest. You could feel the muscles in your fingers moving with precision across the keys of the piano. Years of playing this song over and over again came in handy because if muscle memory hadn't taken over you would have fumbled it. When the song came to an end everyone around you was clapping and cheering for the two of you, the woman who initially requested the song was almost in tears. You looked over to her with a large smile, she gave you a watery one back before looking over to her fiance; who was also widely smiling at you.

You watched him as the crowd was telling him how much of an amazing singer he was; if only they knew he was a famous singer. There was a lingering thought in the back of your mind. This was the perfect opportunity to show Hongjoong how much he meant to you. Music was something that he understood on a deep level, and to be able to do what you wanted you needed to pull out something from your past.

“This is going to be my last song for the day. I want to dedicate it to my special someone in the crowd. You are the reason I’ve made it this far.” you nodded slightly to him and he returned it not knowing what was in store for him.

“This song has a special place in my heart and I hope to share it with you. If you know the words please feel free to sing along.” You began the notes to the song your Papa used to sing to your Granny. As soon as you started the song Hongjoong’s eyes lit up with recognition. He moved to lean on the piano just watching you intently with his chin in the palm of his hand. Before he could even register anything other than the song, you were singing; by yourself this time. You watched his reactions, he seemed to have gone through the five stages of grief as you sang. You kept eye contact for as long as you could before having to look away and let the music roll through your mind, body, and soul.

The notes of Wonderwall echoed across the pavement and into the streets beyond. Your voice carried up above the notes coming from the large instrument you sat at. Your singing may have not been nearly as good as the man you dedicated this song to but you didn't care, all that mattered was that he knew it was from the bottom of your heart. The murmurs of the crowd had ceased as you started singing, their words caught in their throats at your soft but powerful tone of voice. You had told them to sing with you but they couldn’t, not when your voice sounded like something that could soothe the deepest wounds of the soul.

When you finished you looked up to Hongjoong who was absolutely beaming if the crinkle of his eyes above his mask was anything to go by. You took a bow and thanked everyone before grabbing your phone and turning off the recording. As soon as you had made your way away from the piano he rushed to you and gave you a hug. You laughed and wrapped your arms around him.

“Hi Naui Haneul (my Sky), I’m glad you made it okay.”

“Hi Nae Sarang (My Love), let's get heading back to our hotel. I want to take off this stupid mask.” You laughed and gently separated from him and grabbed his hand leading him back to your hotel. You both walked in comfortable silence. When the lady at the front desk saw you she smiled widely and lightly bowed her head to you. You returned the gesture before heading over to the elevators. After you finally made it into your room you turned around and looked over at Hongjoong who immediately took off his facemask and threw it somewhere before approaching you and bringing you into a kiss. He seemed to be pouring everything into it. His hands were gentle as he rubbed them up and down your sides, almost like he was reminding himself that you are actually here; that you were real. You melted farther into him with a small sigh of contentment. Before either of you could get any farther he separated himself from you and put his forehead against yours.

You looked at him fully now, he was in a casual outfit. His face was bare and you could tell that he had been running his hands through his hair a lot today. “I’ve missed you.”

‘Songbird, it's only been a few days.” You lightly chuckled at him and he let out a huff.

“That's too long.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. He lightly flexed his fingers on your side in warning. You let out a small squeak and pushed yourself away from him.

“Dont you fucking dare, you know I’ll kick your ass and I’m not above biting either.” He let out a loud laugh at your threat, like he knew you were mostly bluffing. The amusement lingered in his eyes as he approached you and pulled you into another hug. His arms made their way to wrap around your back and his head was on your shoulder; he was practically moulded to you. You stood there with him for a minute before you took in his posture. His shoulders had been just slightly slumped since you walked into the hotel room; a tell tale sign that he was tired. He was almost completely leaning on you at this point. You were glad to support him, something he wouldn't let other people see. The two of you were rocking side to side as you stood there, the entire thing was almost lulling you to sleep as well. His warm hands were on the sliver of skin between your skirt and crop top, the small calluses were rough against your skin which made you shiver slightly. He was gently tracing random shapes onto that skin and you could have sworn he traced a heart more than once.

“Are you tired Joongie?” You felt his responding nod against the juncture between your neck and shoulder where he had nuzzled himself into. “Want to go change out of your airport clothes and into some pjs and come back?”

He responded the same way before separating himself from you and moving toward the door. He exited and a door clicked across the hall. What did he pull to get a room so close to you? Before you could let the thought develop farther you moved to get changed into one of your sleep sets. With a half assed thought of messing with Hongjoong you put on your skeleton set. The most noticeable feature of this particular set was the skeleton hands holding your chest. Your movements were sluggish, the weight of the day was weighing on your entire body; the soreness had just started to register. Before you made it any farther you took some pain meds to alleviate it before it truly got started. When you were done changing and doing your nightly routine you moved over to the door and propped it open for Hongjoong to enter whenever he was finished. You plopped onto your stomach on the bed after plugging in your phone and started scrolling through all of the notifications. Most of them had been from the team and your boys. There were several follow requests on your personal accounts. Upon further inspection you realized that it was your boys. With a small smile you accepted each one of them. You started cutting up the footage of you playing the piano to post; it was something you knew the team, your mother, and now the boys would fawn over later.

“Wha– When did you get that?!” You jumped and turned to look over your shoulder at Hongjoong who was staring at your left leg.

“Love, my eyes are up here.” As soon as the words left your mouth his eyes immediately shot to yours and then back down to the back of your leg. It was really entertaining to see the shock on his face. His eyes were wide and his mouth parted just a little. He moved toward you and crawled onto the bed, his eyes were still locked on the back of your leg. He looked up at you, you nodded to him and he lightly ran his fingers over the lines of the fresh tattoo. Because it was so fresh you knew he would be able to feel the lines of ink on your skin. His touch was adoring as he traced the lines of the sword, flowers and koi.

“It’s dry, do you have any lotion?” you nodded and got up to retrieve the unscented balm specifically made for tattoo aftercare. He was holding out his hand expectantly. You set it in his awaiting palm and resumed your position on your stomach, you laid your head on your arms feeling the exhaustion from the day creeping in on you. The twisting of the top of the small jar was the only noise in the room, not even a second later the cold blam met your achilles. You let out a hiss through your teeth at the chill of it. Hongjoong stopped immediately after you made the noise.

“It’s okay, I just wasn't expecting the cold.” You looked over your shoulder at him. He let out a small sigh of relief and resumed what he was doing. His hands traveled up the back of your leg gently, his touch was reverent as he massaged the balm into your skin. Every once in a while he would get more balm on his hands but you noticed it wasn't as cold as it initially was. You turned your head and watched the focused man. He was warming it up between his hands before putting it on you. Your heart melted at the sight. How did you get this lucky. He was entirely focused on taking care of you, his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth and his eyes solely focused on you. You kept your head turned to watch him, at one point he had taken some and applied it to his own ankle tattoo; which really didn't need it. You were just watching him with a small smile, his care was so quiet and gentle; one of the many things you loved about him.

When he had completed his mission he put the small jar on the bedside table on his side and turned to look at you. When his eyes met yours he smiled that cute little smile that looked so much like Jjoongrami. You turned on your side and opened your arm for him. His reaction was immediate; he crawled up the bed and cuddled as close to you as he could. He tucked himself under your arm facing you and half on top of you, his breath was tickling your collarbones as he put his head under your chin. You left a small kiss on his hairline before stretching behind you and turning off the light. He had blindly reached behind himself and tugged the covers up and over the both of you. Once the two of you were settled you squeezed him close.

“Thank you for taking care of me, I completely forgot I needed to do that; it's been a long hectic day.”

“Any time Nae Sarang (My Love), I’m happy you let me, it's not very often I get to take care of someone that willingly lets me.” A light laugh left you at the thought of the other boys’ reluctant acceptance of his quiet affection.

“I might roll my eyes at you or protest a little but I also know better than that, the years of being an Atiny taught me better; everyone knows you're stubborn. If they know the extent is questionable but it's very obvious.” He let out a small laugh of his own. His hands were tracing shapes on your back as you spoke. You could feel them getting slower and slower as he lost consciousness, before he was completely gone he placed a sweet kiss to your collarbone. You followed shortly after into dreamland, happy that you had him to cuddle instead of the plushies.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

The next morning you actually got to sleep in, something that was rare on these trips. Hongjoong hasn't moved from his position under your chin, you slowly pulled yourself away to look at him. His hair was just a little messy and his face completely relaxed. He looked peaceful, a stark contrast to normal. You took this opportunity to slightly baby him like he did to you last night. With gentle hands you combed your fingers through his hair, he shifted just barely but you know he wasn't waking up just yet. You would have laid here with him for hours if it meant that he got some decent sleep. You reached behind yourself and grabbed your phone to keep yourself occupied while he slept.

A little while later he stirred, when he did he pulled away from you and gave you a sleepy smile. You smiled back at him before resuming your gentle scratching of his scalp. He shut his eyes again and just basked in it, he let out a noise close to a hum as he shifted himself to be completely on top of you. You let out a small hum of your own as his warmth seeped farther into you.

“Good morning Joongie, did you sleep okay?” He nodded against you and before you knew it he fell back into a light sleep. You brought your phone back out and snapped a quick picture, making sure to catch Hetmongi in it as well. You shot it off to your group chat with the boys.

It was about an hour later that you noticed how hungry you were. You were so happy that Hongjoong was sleeping but at the same time you needed sustenance. You gently attempted to scoot him off of the top of you but to no avail, any time you even remotely shifted he would hug you tighter. You looked down at his sleeping face to see that his eyes were cracked open and he was already watching you. You snickered at him and tried to move again, he did most of the same thing but you could see the ghost of a smirk on his face now. In perfect comedic timing your stomach growled. He looked down at your stomach and back up at you with a grin.

“Hungry?”

“Not at all,” he rolled his eyes at your sarcasm before moving away from you and letting you get up. When you got up and stretched you caught him watching you, his eyes were caught on something on your hip. You looked down and realized your lyric tattoo was showing. With a quick glance back up at him you noticed that he was smiling smugly at you. You walked over to the end of the bed where he was sitting. His hands met your hips as you stood between his legs, his eyes were taking you in as you stood there looking down at him.

“You can look, I saw you watching me.” His hands gently moved your shirt up and he turned you to the side. He was looking over the top of the moon tarot and your lyric tattoo. He was just tracing his thumb over it, you could practically feel the gears turning in his head. He looked up at you from under his lashes and leaned forward to place a kiss on the center of your handwriting. He held eye contact with you, making sure that you were watching him while he appreciated you. His hands lightly squeezed your hips as he did so. There was a subtle heat that curled up your back while he kissed you. When he pulled away from placing the lingering kiss you could see the shift in his eyes into something just a little darker.

“You were ours before we even knew you, weren't you?” You nodded. His responding grin was beautifully disarming. His warm hands lingered on your bare skin, a significant contrast to the coolness of the room. He was looking up at you like he wanted to do something, before he could make up his mind you stepped away from him and to the small phone on your bedside table. With a quick flip to the breakfast menu you handed it to Hongjoong, when he decided what he wanted you called and ordered it.

You flopped onto the bed as soon as the call was done, Hongjoong moved to be hovering above you. He quietly held your gaze with something flickering in his eyes, you could feel the suspicion crawling its way up your spine; what was he up to? His eyes flickered from your lips back up to your eyes before he leaned in and captured them. There was a small noise of surprise that left you as he took the reins. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let your hands take their natural place in his hair. He groaned into the kiss while you scraped your nails gently across his scalp. The kiss was burning and intense as it continued, he ended up shifting to be completely above you by straddling your waist. You ran your hands from his hair down his back lightly scratching at him as you went. When your hands got to the bottom of his shirt you gently slipped them under it to feel his smooth skin. He shuttered and sat back just a little, you felt yourself chasing his lips as he leaned away from you.

Your eyes fluttered back open and what you saw above you was breathtaking. His eyes were dark and his hair slightly mussed, his face was a light shade of red and his smile was devastating. His hands were to either side of your head, the veins in his arms were becoming more prominent as time passed. The man in front of you was stunning as he looked down over you. It seemed to register then the top you were wearing, his eyes caught on the skeleton hands on your chest; the half assed thought of messing with him may have paid off.

“You wore this just to mess with me didn't you?” His tone was mostly teasing but you could sense the undercurrent of the captain coming out to play. His eyes moved back up to yours for a split second, you gave him a light nod which was all the confirmation he needed. He shifted to completely sit up before he let his hands cover the design on your chest. He gently squeezed, testing the weight of it in his hands. The breath was knocked out of you before you even had the chance to respond. You were sure that he could feel the rapid thumping of your heartbeat under his hands; just like he could feel the stuttering breath you took to center yourself before answering his question.

“Maybe, maybe not.” there was something in you that wanted to discover how much you could push his buttons. The responding look he gave you was filled with heat, his pupils had dilated just a little more than they were previously. He squeezed a little more and you let out another gasp, arching into his touch just barely. He leaned back down toward you with a smug smile moving one of his hands next to your head, you grabbed the back of his neck and brought his lips to yours. His citrus and woodsy cologne invaded your nose as you brought him close. You could feel the heat radiating from the both of you. It was a battle, mostly tongues and teeth as you kissed. The two of you were completely exploring the other. His hand gilded all over your sides and chest as you kissed. You let your hands roam as well, over his shoulders, back, pecs, stomach and back to his hair. Each part of you he touched you could feel the fire burning under your skin. His lips were slightly chapped as they moved against yours. Your kisses became more frantic as time went on, the hammering of your heart in your chest was almost overwhelming.

There was a knock at the door. The two of you immediately separated, he quickly moved over to the side and brought the blanket to cover himself. You got up and moved toward the door, as soon as you were out of his eyeshot you smiled to yourself at how wound up he was because of you. When you opened the door you were met with a smaller woman with a rolling trolly. She smiled as she came into the room and set the trays on the dresser just like the man had the other day. With a small smile and a quick nod to both of you she left.

You were grinning at Hongjoong as you brought the food over to him, he had a small bashful smile on his face while he watched you. When you set down the plate of food in front of him you moved to give him a kiss on his forehead before going back to grab yours. The two of you ate in relative silence too wrapped up in your own heads to speak to the other.

After the two of you finished up the breakfast you took his plate from him and set it outside the door. You grabbed your phone and started posting the several clips of you playing the piano from last night on your private account. As soon as you got them up there was a ping across the room. Hongjoong grabbed his phone and checked it, his smile was radiant as he unmuted the video he was watching; the one you just posted. Of course he had your notifications on. Your notifications started pinging not even a second later, with a large smile you looked at the videos you posted.

You shook your head at their antics. It hadn't even been a minute and your post had eight likes and comments from their personal accounts. Your other notifications started going off, in your chat with them they were praising your singing and your skills. With a glance up you found that you were already being watched; Hongjoong was regarding you with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at him and started responding to the flurry of messages the best you could.

Through the morning the two of you just relaxed in the other’s presence. Hongjoong had disappeared across the hall and had grabbed his laptop and headphones to work on something from the comfort of your bed. You had since moved to the small desk to do some more editing of your own things. The two of you had a silent understanding that you could catch up on work without having to worry about your favorite chaotic people interrupting. You had been working on getting some final edits done on one of the last projects you had been working on before starting with the boys. This one had been something that took a lot of work on everyone’s end. You have been doing the edits to the video to make it as perfect as you could, this particular client was being very picky; which was a good thing and a bad thing. A good thing because the longer it took the more you got paid, a bad thing because you had to spend so much time on it fixing little minute things that barely made any difference. In the future you wouldn't be working with this client again.

Hongjoong had been doing much of the same thing behind you. The only difference was the person he was trying to impress was himself. He had been listening and bopping to the music while keeping an eye on you. You looked so peaceful while you worked, your hair cascading across your shoulders and the slightly hunched posture reminded him of himself. You had been meticulously staring at the video you were working on for the past little while, even his eyes were getting tired of seeing it. Without much of a thought he set his laptop on the other side of the bed and got up. He approached you and rested his hands on your shoulders rubbing them slightly. You tensed before realizing it was just Hongjoong. Tilting your head back into his stomach you looked up at him with a small smile.

“You want to take a break with me Shutterbug?” His smile was sweet as he continued to rub your shoulders.

“Honestly, that’s probably a good idea. I've been watching this on a loop for so long I think it may have burned itself into the back of my eyelids.”

“Alright, let's watch a movie and then we can get back to work.” You got up and looked around for one of your HDMI cords. If you could plug in your laptop to the tv you could stream a movie perfectly without having to worry about paying for it. As soon as you found it you celebrated with a small happy dance. You plugged the cord into the respective ports. When it was pulled up you moved through the movies and selected one that had been on your mind since yesterday when you were interrupted to play Rewrite the Stars. Tangled was one of your favorites, and if you had the chance you would have played I See The Light yesterday. After it was rolling you made your way over to the bed where Hongjoong was holding his arms open for you to cuddle up to his chest. You curled up against him and watched the beginning scene lightly singing along with it, you felt the rumble of Hongjoong’s chuckle against your ear as you sang.

As the movie went on you waited for your favorite numbers. Before Hongjoong could even fathom you were up and out of his arms and standing on the bed. You sang along animatedly to your second favorite song from the movie; I’ve Got a Dream. As the men were singing and doing their dancing number you were doing some of the moves while looking at Hongjoong. He was looking at you with something between shock, amusement, and worry. You were smiling at him and singing to him like a crazy person, when the number finished you flopped yourself back onto the bed making sure to avoid falling on him.

He was watching you with a smile, when you met his eyes he shook his head at you. Your laughter echoed off the walls at his amused grin, when you recovered you made yourself comfortable against him again. The two of you just sat and watched in comfortable silence up until your absolute favorite song came up. You didn’t really move from your spot this time but you felt him shift. The two of you looked at each other with wide eyes and you promptly burst into giggles but immediately quieted down when he sang to you. His voice, his unique and amazing voice meshed with Eugene’s as he sang to you. You just watched him as he sang, his eyes were sparkling like the dancing of new stars.

When the song came to an end you pulled him into a light kiss before turning back to the movie. What you missed however was the light blush on his face and his racing thoughts of how much he loved you. If you had been able to read his mind you would have been able to see how he struggled to express in words how much he adored you. Everything about you, from the dark to the light. You were a mixture of all of the men he loved so much. Wooyoung’s chaos and biting habits, San’s love for cats and his sweet nature, Seonghwa’s mothering, Yeosang’s quick witted responses, Yunho’s goofiness, Mingi’s passion, and Jongho’s no nonsense attitude and maybe some of his strength.

He could see a bit of himself in you as well; your love for music. In some of the small moments you have shared with him and the rest of the boys he has seen how you bop along to songs and how there is almost always something in your ear or over them; when you aren’t working. Just yesterday before you noticed him he saw how you played the piano, passionate and free. You had been beaming with the light of a thousand stars as you were watching the couples dance. He saw how you shined and he was in awe of you; and had been ever since the first moment you met.

He looked at you. How you were cuddled up to him, how you fit perfectly against his side, how your hands had found his and started messing with the rings he wore, more specifically his team ring. You were just so uniquely you, quiet, beautiful, joyful, chaotic; you. He wouldn’t trade this moment for the world, nor would he ever let you go.

You must have felt his stare because just as his thoughts drifted you looked up to him. Your eyes were shining behind your thick framed glasses, something that made you even cuter. He brushed a stray hair away from your face and just let his hand linger there. You could feel the heat from his hand seep into the skin of your cheek as he cupped it. His eyes were showing a rare vulnerability, it was almost as if you could see straight through him and into his soul. Your responding smile was immediate as you took him in while leaning into his gentle touch. You turned to kiss his palm and then back to watching the movie, you'd be damned if you missed the ending.

Between the time you stepped outside for a professional call and when you stepped back into the room from pacing the balcony Hongjoong had made himself a blanket and pillow nest on your bed with a suspicious amount of snacks. You looked at him with a tilt of your head and he just smiled not so innocently at you. You looked at your desk where you had left the remaining things you had gotten the other day and it was gone. The only thing was that there were too many of them for it to have just been your stash.

“Whose child did you steal from to get all of those snacks?” He looked at you with his brows furrowed and his head tilted. The look was comical especially since you could see the same look painted on Jjongrami’s face with your creative mind. You snickered at him when he patted the bed next to him to beckon you closer, with quick steps you got back into bed; making sure you avoided squishing the snacks.

What was supposed to be one movie turned into two, which turned into three. By the time you realized you had been in the middle of your fourth movie and the snacks had been almost completely demolished. It was late enough that you knew going out or ordering dinner would be a hassle so you settled for getting into your stash of ramyeon in your suitcase. Crawling out of bed you grabbed two bowls and started preparing it. While you were waiting for it to be finished a pair of arms wrapped around your stomach. You hummed and leaned back onto Hongjoong who started swaying with you. The two of you watched the microwave tick down second by second. When it beeped you pulled it out with practiced hands. Thankfully you had learned very quickly on how to not burn yourself after many failed attempts.

You both made your way back to the bed with chopsticks from your travel set and continued watching Rocky. Your evening continued much the same, the quiet was nice. No expectations, no cameras other than the occasional picture you would send to your boys, no expectations to be perfect, just the two of you sitting and basking in the passing moments. You both really hadn’t moved from your respective spots on the bed. While playing with his hands absentmindedly you felt an odd texture on his pinky nail. You looked down and sure enough there was a large chip out of the polish. Gently you separated yourself from him and walked into the bathroom for your small nail kit with black nail polish, cue tips and nail polish remover. You didn't even check to see if he was watching you, but as soon as you walked back in he was looking at you curiously as you approached the bed. Without a word you unzipped the bag dumping out the contents.

“What are you doing Treasure?” You looked up to him with a small smile.

“Your polish was chipped, definitely in no condition to go to a VIP event tomorrow, so I’m fixing it.” You took the nail polish remover and a cue tip to get off the preexisting nail polish. The movie continued in the background but all he could watch was you as you meticulously applied the black polish. You had expertly applied it making sure to not have any on his skin. When it came time for it to dry you frantically waved your hands above his to dry it quicker, even though it was a quick dry nail polish. After you were satisfied the first coat was dry enough you applied a second coat and a top coat.

“There! Now it wont go anywhere for a little while.” He held his hand up to inspect the job you had done. It was perfect, almost like it was professionally done. His eyes focused back on you and he could have melted. You were sitting there cross legged, your hair up in a messy bun, glasses sitting perfectly on your nose with bright eyes sparkling behind the thick frames. The smile you were wearing was soft and something he generally saw on Seonghwa’s face.

“Thank you, it looks perfect.” You could see the lingering emotions on his face, he was regarding you with a small smile and his eyes were shining. With a small kiss to the back of his hand you got up to bring your kist back to the bathroom.

When you checked your phone you noticed that it was nearing the time you generally would get ready for bed. Deciding to get your nightly routine over with you stayed in the bathroom to get ready so you wouldn't have to get back up.

Your nightly routine consisted of taking your vitamins, brushing your teeth, and a little skincare. You started moving methodically through the steps before the padding of feet caught your attention. Hongjoong was standing in the doorway watching you with a small smile. You were half way through washing your face and looked absolutely ridiculous with your headband pulling your hair away from your face and bubbles coating it like an extravagant bubble bath. He was watching you with raised eyebrows and before you knew it he was approaching you with a grin. When he got close enough he swiped some of the bubbles off of your face and blew them back at you. The small bubbles floated around briefly before popping. You snorted at him before turning back to wash off your face. When you did you made sure to be a little more careful of the water so you wouldn’t splash him. You heard him leave just a second later out the door and presumably to his room across the hall. You were applying a small amount of moisturizer when he came back into the bathroom. He set down a small carry case and it was chalked full of nightly routine things. Without a word he started doing his nightly routine too, you smiled at him through the mirror before he looked back up.

The domesticality of the entire thing had your heart in shambles. In the past you hadn’t had this with anyone, nothing even remotely similar. This is what you had seen in the rom coms and for all of the couples surrounding you. You yearned for the day it would happen to you, it was finally happening; something so small to others that was so big to you. You watched him go through the motions of his skincare routine, and without fail he caught your eyes in the mirror and raised his eyebrows at you. You shook your head at him and motioned for him to keep going. When he resumed his mission you grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste to brush your teeth.

The two of you had continued like this without words having to be spoken. A carefully curated dance was performed as you moved around each other. He disappeared before coming back with the balm for your tattoo. He knelt behind you and applied it like he had the night before. When both of you finished you walked out hand in hand and Hongjoong escorted you to the bed. He made sure you were comfortable before gently grabbing your glasses and putting them on his bedside table. With what little you could see you watched him move around the room quickly shutting things down. When he finally settled he turned off the light and cuddled up with you. You were pressed to his chest and his arms were slung around you protectively. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek while you laid there. His hand was combing through your hair gently and all you could focus on was him. You were being consumed by him, his touch, his smell, his heartbeat; absolutely everything. This may have been the quickest you’ve ever fallen asleep.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

You woke to an alarm that wasn’t yours. With a groan you lightly smacked Hongjoong who only tightened his hold on you with an airy chuckle.

“Good morning to you too Nae Sarang (my love).” He pressed a light kiss to your hairline before reaching behind him to turn off the offensive noise. When it had finally silenced you peeked your eyes open to see him very close to your face. Close enough that you could see him clearly with your shitty nearsightedness. He was looking at you with those adorable boba eyes and a smile; which just so happened to be contagious. You could feel the smile on your face break free the more that you looked at him. He placed a quick kiss on your nose before rolling out of the bed and walking to the bathroom. You turned around and checked your phone. It was fairly early, you had enough time to chill before you needed to get up and go to the shoot for Comme des Garçons. You scrolled on your social media looking over some of the most recent edits that your team had posted. A couple of minutes later Hongjoong appeared in front of you holding out your glasses. You took them from him and put them on before sitting up fully to take him in.

“I have to go coordinate with some of the staff and other people. I don't think I will be able to see you until the runway so be safe and keep me updated the best you can”

“I will do my best,” He smiled with a small nod before placing a peck on your lips.

“I love you Shutterbug”

“I love you too Songbird. Have a good day.”

“I will only if you do the same” He was walking out the door before he peeked his head back in and gave you a wink. If you had the time you would have questioned him. Your alarm started going off in your hand; you were half tempted to throw your phone away at this point. With a groan you got up, before you could even take a step there was a knock at your door. You padded toward the door and opened it expecting to see Hongjoong but it was a man holding a garment bag.

“A delivery for Miss Y/n Starling.” He handed the garment bag to you and gave you a small bow before making his way back to the elevator.

“Thank you!” you yelled after the man. He gave you a nod of his head as the elevator doors were closing. You moved toward the bed and set the garment bag down. There was another small note with your name written in a beautiful script. You pulled it out of the small clear pocket and opened it.

Shutterbug,

Don't be too mad with me but I wanted to match with you, even if it's subtle.

Your Songbird

You gently opened the garment bag and your eyes widened at the beautiful black suit with white buttons. The first thing you did was check the size, it was your exact measurements; that sly bastard. You marched over to the bathroom, closed the door and hung it up on the hook on the back of the door. With quick movements you changed, as you slipped it on you realized it was made of some of the best almost silky material. Once it was completely situated on your body you realized how perfect it was for you. You were looking at yourself in the mirror moving and twisting to see the range it had. The jacket was just snug enough that it didn't move too much but loose enough that you still had an exquisite range of movement. It was light which meant that you would most likely not overheat in it; which happened in most suits. The sleeves were adorned with a small line of white buttons and they fell perfectly on your wrists; the same buttons decorated the pockets and the front line of buttons down your torso. The pants were perfectly tailored around your waist and butt making them look really good. How the fuck did he pull this off? You would have to interrogate him later. This suit was most likely meant for today so you continued to get ready. When you were finally completely finished you grabbed your glasses chain and backpack. Slipping on your shoes you headed out of your room. You snatched a couple of things to eat on your way over to the venue for the shoots and runway.

When you got there the chaos was in full swing for the shoot. As you were walking by you almost ran into a couple of frantic stylists. Thankfully you had been paying attention because if you had been knocked off balance it would be a very detrimental and expensive mistake. You walked around looking for someone you recognized, as soon as you caught the eye of the manager you approached him. The poor man looked like he was going to lose his head. You gave him a light greeting and he jumped out of his skin but relaxed as he realized it was you.

“Onyx, thank god. Everything has gone awry this morning and I am so happy you are here.”

“Awry how, is there something I can help with?”

“The person that was supposed to be calling the shots has just informed us that she is sicker than a dog and can't be here. Rei is out dealing with something that happened at the venue. I have been panicking about everything ever since.”

“I see, well, I have had my fair share of calling shots, want me to assist?”

“You would do that?”

“Of course I would, I have had my fair share of chaos and have become a professional coordinator of the stuff. Especially handling the Louis Vuitton show a couple of days ago. I've got this, and you can help me with some of the finer details.” He wrapped you in a hug and let out a sigh of relief. You patted his back awkwardly and he released you beaming. You stepped away from him to grab a spare chair. You called everyone to attention just like you had for the other two shoots. A sharp whistle pierced the air and caught everyone’s attention.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Onyx, your head photographer for today. I have been informed that you are down a very important person. I am going to be stepping into the role to help. I have been photographing fashion shoots for just about seven years and working with this brand for three so I mostly know how this goes but I will need all of you to bear with me as I figure out the details of this particular shoot. Staff, I am going to be relying on you to help me as best you can while managing everything that you have been assigned. I would like to request some kind of specific schedule for the day. I have a photographer's schedule but I will need more details to make things go as best we can. Stylists, I know everything is crazy and you are worried about the outfits but I need all of you to take a deep breath. You are doing amazing. Makeup artists, you are going to be helping each other out for touch ups as there seems to be a couple of you that are doing multiple jobs today. I will be also relying on you to keep the models in a halfway grounded state. Models, you are the stars, do not let the panic or chaos overwhelm you, we are all here for you and will be doing the best that we can to make sure this runs smoothly.” Everyone was nodding as you made it through the speech, the man next to you seemed to have calmed just a hair.

“I look forward to working with all of you. You are going to do amazing, so let's not panic too much okay? We have this.” The models let out a slight cheer, some of the more experienced ones you recognized gave you a grateful glance. Everything had been over the top when you arrived, and now it had slowed down. When you stepped past the large group of people you headed out to the main portion of the shoot area. A woman with a clipboard approached you while you were getting set up. She wordlessly handed it to you, it was a detailed list, something that had been written on presumably by the person who was out sick.

“Thank you, I assume you were their right hand?”

“Yes my name is Rosalie, I know most of how her brain works so I would be happy to help you out today.”

“You are godsend. You are more than welcome to take point, while I know a lot I don’t know quite enough about this shoot to be completely confident. At this point I am just a figurehead so everyone will calm the hell down.”

“Yeah, she has a way of doing what you just did which is why everyone responded to you so well. When she is gone it is absolute chaos.”

“I can tell, alright you have got this in the bag, if you need me to make anything change let me know.” Just as you were speaking the first model waltzed out. You smiled at him and started directing the shots. The woman next to you had been gathering and managing everyone perfectly. The chaos may have died down but you knew that this was only the beginning.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

A few hours later after many changes and pit stops to calm the chaos you were finally done. You were already worn the hell out but you needed to keep going. You wandered over to a quiet corner after taking off your harness and cameras and settled yourself down to see if you could find some calm in the storm of this shoot. You still had a few hours until you needed to be at the venue for the runway. You would be taking pictures and doing things beforehand as the vip guests arrived, which included Hongjoong. You slipped an earbud in and decided to call someone, you clicked on the first name that popped up and waited for him to pick up. Yunho and Mingi popped onto the screen with large smiles.

“Princess! How are you doing? Is everything going okay?”

“Hi loves, everything is absolute chaos but I am managing. How is everything for you?”

“It’s smoothed out quite a bit, we have been holding lots of dance practice and vocal lessons to fill the time. Most of our schedules have been pretty crammed with all of our small meetings and things. But we are managing too.” You looked down at the two of them with a small smile. They were sitting close together and there was a shuffle behind the phone, Yunho’s eyes caught on something before he scooted over. Jongho had peeked at the screen and gave you a small wave before turning back to whatever it was he was doing.

Someone burst into the room and before you knew it you were being moved out of Yunho’s hand and into Wooyoung’s “I knew I heard them say princess! Hi Y/n-nie!”

His boundless energy is something you wished you had in this moment. “Hi, Woo.”

“Yah! Give her back! She called us, not you!” You let out a snort of laughter at the demand in Mingi’s voice. You could see his furrowed eyebrows and the grabby hands he was making in your mind's eye. With a grumble he handed you back to the pair. Yunho seemed to be assessing you carefully through the phone.

“Haebalagi (Sunflower) are you okay? Something seems off.”

“I’m okay, Yuyu.” He tilted his head at you before reluctantly accepting the short answer you gave him. You watched the boys for a minute before hearing your name across the room. Your head flicked up and you caught sight of one of the stylists rushing toward you. You deafened the boys before standing up to greet the stylist.

“One of the new models is having a panic attack, something triggered them and we have been trying to get them out of it but nothing is working. The manager told me to come get you and that you would know what to do.”

“Fuck, okay.” You took off running with the stylist completely forgetting about the boys that were in your hand. As soon as you made it to the young model you sat on the floor with him. He was covered in smeared makeup and you could tell that he was overwhelmed.

“Everyone needs to back up. Someone get me some water, make it cold!” You yelled over your shoulder to someone who had taken off. After you had made sure that they had completely dispersed into small groups still watching you turned to look at the man sitting in front of you.

“Hi, I’m sure you remember me from earlier. Is it okay that I touch you?” He gave a quick, almost imperceptible nod. You gently grabbed his hands and laid them over your chest.

“Feel me and breathe with me.” He nodded again and tried to regulate with you. His eyes kept flickering to everyone surrounding you, it was still too much. Without thinking you scooted closer and murmured that you were going to take him somewhere else. You took off your jacket leaving yourself in just the vest, quickly you handed your things to the person nearest to you which just so happened to be Rosalie. You got up and squatted in front of the man and gave him a warning before picking him up in a princess carry. You walked out toward one of the empty rooms you noticed earlier and thanked whatever was up there that it was still empty.

In the chaos the boys were watching you with awe. Somehow in the mixture of everything the camera had gotten turned around and it was on you as you carried the man. Yunho had sat it on the table so they couldn’t be seen but kept watching as you cared for someone you didn’t even know. And boy were they impressed when you lifted the kid like he weighed nothing.

When you set the man down on the couch you could tell that he was already feeling better. Rosalie held out a cold water to you for him. You gently moved to put it on the back of his neck, hoping that the cool will shock his system back into regulation. Immediately he sagged like the string to his anxiety had been snapped.

“Hi that's it, everything is going to be okay, can you tell me your name?”

“Malo,” He was out of breath and his voice scratchy when he spoke. You nodded to him and took the water bottle away from the back of his neck and offered it to him after popping it open. With shaking hands he took it. You and Rosalie watched as he took down a couple gulps. The tension that was in him was almost completely gone at this point, leaving him looking exhausted. You tucked a couple of strands of his styled hair away from his face to see him.

“Malo, can you tell me what happened?”

“Everything got to be too much, normally I don’t have an issue with this but with the way today has gone I guess my mind got overwhelmed. The stylists and makeup artists were bickering, the other models were being too loud, the staff was trying to get everyone to pay attention so they could explain the next steps. I couldn’t even hear myself think.”

“Okay, I see. Well, why don’t you rest here with Rosalie for a little while while I go and take care of this.” He nodded and Rosalie handed you back your jacket and phone. You pocketed your phone in the vest pocket before putting the jacket over your arm and walking out. You marched down the hallway and were met with immediate chaos, some of the more quiet models approached you and asked if Malo was okay. You gave them a curt nod not breaking your stride. The stylists and makeup artists were chattering loudly in the corner and the staff were just resigned like they had been defeated. You took your stance on a chair and onto one of the clear makeup stations to get even more height. You nodded to them, they all gave you grateful nods back. A couple of them covered their ears while you let out a piercing whistle.

Everyone froze for the second time today, each and every one of their eyes fell to you. By some of their expressions they knew shit was about to go down. You were using your tattoos to seem just a little more intimidating, most of the time it worked; and it seemed like that hadn’t changed. You flattened out your blazer across your arm and cleared your throat before speaking in a loud authoritative tone. “Alright, listen up. I know your shot caller is not here. That being said, you do not need to act like out of control five year olds when their parents aren’t there. The chaos is absolutely fucking ridiculous and overwhelming, even for me and I have put up with far more chaos than all of you combined. All of you know how to act like professionals so fucking act like professionals. I have not seen this amount of chaos in a long time, and the last time someone got hurt. Which is where you are heading now if you don’t tone it the hell down. You are going to listen to the staff whether you like it or not because they are the ones who have the ins and outs of what you lot of children are going to be doing. They also have a say if you get rehired for the next show based on their recommendations. With the way things are going the next time I work for this brand I will not see you again. So, listen to the staff, and shape the hell up or so help me I will put in a personal call in to Rei. And if that doesn’t work I will get a list of all of you, names and all, to each company I have a rapport with such as Louis Vuitton and Isabel Marant to make sure you never get hired. Do I make myself crystal fucking clear?”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop in that room. All of the people were staring at you with wide eyes and some with their mouths slightly agape. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the smirks on the staffs’ faces. “Do I make myself clear?”

They nodded and you heard a chorus of yes mamm and yes. You stepped down with the help of one of the models and marched down the hallway back where you came from. When you turned to step into the room you saw Rosalie standing close to the door jam and Malo sitting on the couch.

“You are a badass.” Malo’s small statement made you laugh as he scooted over to let you sit. You plopped yourself onto the couch and pulled out your phone. All you could see was the ceiling of a room. You clicked the button to see if you could hear your boys. The chatter was immediate but over everything else you could hear Wooyoung.

“Yah! Do you think she would boss us around like that?”

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” You are so happy you kept your earbuds in because this was not something that anyone should hear. You cleared your throat and almost immediately heads started popping into the frame. Wooyoung first, then San, Mingi, and Yunho, and finally Seonghwa, Jongho and Yeosang. You snickered and took a screenshot of them while they looked down at the phone.

“Muse, is Malo okay?” You nodded at them more specifically at Mingi who asked.

“Would you like to see for yourself?” They all exchanged glances and seemed to be communicating silently between each other. Yunho was the one to pick up the phone and situate it so it was facing the couch they had been sitting on. Upon further inspection you realized it was your KQ office. Yunho nodded to you before situating himself between Mingi and Wooyoung. You muted yourself and turned to Malo.

“Malo, some of my friends who were on the phone with me when I was called away are asking if they could see if you were okay. They saw everything and are worried for you. If you aren't comfortable with that, it's okay.” He looked at you in shock before straightening himself out a little bit. He wiped his face and tried to clear himself of the smeared eyeliner. You were watching him carefully before he nodded to you.

“I will warn you, they are still learning English, so there is a chance that I will have to translate for you.” He nodded at you again, seemingly steeling himself. You took out your earbud and unmuted yourself before scooting closer to Malo to get him in the frame with you.

“Boys, this is Malo. Malo, this is Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho.” All of them gave a small wave and Malo looked like he was about to jump out of his skin.

“We heard what happened, are you okay?” San was the one to speak up first, his accent was thick as he spoke. You had to fight your smile at how good he was getting. Malo was looking between you and the screen quickly. You were keeping everyone in your view and you could tell the boys may have been just a hair smug that Malo recognized them.

Malo stuttered out that he was okay, and somewhere between everything they had started up a small conversation about the stress before a performance. Sometimes you had to step in and help your boys out with a word if they struggled. The conversation continued for a few minutes before someone interrupted the boys. All of their heads shot up and looked over to who had walked in the room. You watched as Forrest popped into the screen. You laughed at his confused look when he took you and Malo in.

“Hi tree boy, having fun without me?” You could feel his eye roll from across the world. He flipped you off before disappearing.

This time Seonghwa spoke to you in Korean. “We have to get to our schedule, that's why Forrest is here. We love you and hope your day gets a little better.” You nodded and repeated the sentiment to the boys who echoed you. They waved to Malo giving him a goodbye before Yunho hung up the phone.

“You know Ateez?” He was looking at you in shock, much like he had been when you showed him your phone.

“Yeah, I am their logbook videographer. We were talking about some of the schedules they have for when I get back to Korea when I was called away. I must have forgotten to hang up in my rush to get to you.”

“That’s awesome!” You smiled at him, happy that you could bring up his mood a little. In the other room you could hear some of the people calling for you and Rosalie. You glanced at her and she was rolling her eyes; you let out a small snort and got up. You were met with the manager, he was explaining something to Rosalie who had stepped out first. He nodded to you with a smile and rushed off.

“The cars are here to take all of us over.”

“Perfect, let me go grab my things and I’ll meet you outside.” she nodded to you and you turned to look at Malo, he was standing and just a step behind you as you left.

“Find a stylist and makeup artist you are comfortable with and stick with them. If anything gets to be too much and you feel yourself falling into that headspace find me, or have someone find me.” You looked over your shoulder and he was nodding at you. When you reached the main portion of the building the room was mostly quiet and a lot of the people gave you a wide berth as you walked through. You grabbed your harness and put it on before sliding your blazer back over it; with quick movements you were packed up and ready to start moving. Rosalie had approached you and matched your stride as you went up to the front of the room where the staff were organizing models, makeup artists, and stylists. You watched with a smile as they quietly obeyed and kept organized. Once everyone was out and to the cars there was only you Rosalie, the manager and a few staff left. No words had to be spoken as you followed the staff.

There was some quiet chatter in the car as you drove, you messaged Hongjoong letting him know you were heading over to the venue for the runway. When you stepped out you could see the barricade for the people that were lining up to see the celebrities. When you stepped out you straightened yourself and slid on your professional mask. You had to get inside and then you would be back out in the lobby to take pictures as the people entered. Once that was finished you would be front and center taking pictures of the runway. Rei was here so you wouldn't have to worry too much about the chaos, not that you hadn’t scared them straight. When you got into the venue you made your way backstage to leave your things. As soon as you were finished you made sure to seek Malo out to see how he was faring. You saw him sitting with a makeup artist who was gently fixing him up, the small smile on his face told you all you needed to know.

You stepped outside the venue to check if there were people already here, you were met with many people yelling and screaming. There were already a couple of people that pulled up; Hongjoong among them. They had made it early. He was fast approaching where you were. His expression faltered just a minute before he looked at you over the sunglasses he was wearing. You had your phone in your hand and snapped a couple of pictures (1)(2) of the small smirk he was giving you. With a small wink to him you tucked your phone away and moved back into the building. There was already someone waiting for you as you approached. You fell into professional mode and everything else faded from you.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

Everything stopped when I saw her; our Y/n. She looked stunning in the suit I got for her. The wink she gave after she snapped a couple of pictures screamed mischief. I couldn't let myself falter, but I did feel the small heat climbing up the back of my neck. I smiled at the other Atiny before heading into the venue. As soon as I stepped in there she was. I stopped completely which prompted a hand on my shoulder to keep me moving. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the smirk on my manager’s face. He was one of the few people that knew and had been teasing me since we got here; especially since I had not been in our shared room unless absolutely necessary. The suit looked perfect for her, the waist was exquisitely tailored to capture the curves beneath. The white buttons, which were some of the spare ones from my outfit, stood out against the black. When she turned to look at me her smile was radiant as she motioned for me to stand in front of the white background. A flash of silver caught my eye and I noticed the chain hanging from her glasses, it was simple but adorned with stars and moons. Her hair was swept up and away from her face and there was something hanging down over her shoulder like one of our in-ears. She was wearing a harness (it's not the right colors but please bear with me, I saw it and fell in love with it) under her blazer but over her vest. It was as black as the suit but silver thread was what made it stand out against everything else. It spanned from her shoulders and the bottom of it was across her stomach adorned beautifully with silver accents. It was giving you the look of a corset without actually wearing one.

“Hi, I’m Onyx the head photographer, nice to meet you.” I could see the coy look on her face as she held her hand out for me to shake. She was speaking perfect Korean, her accent was just barely noticeable as she spoke. I took her hand and shook it, she gently squeezed my hand as I did. The smile never left her face as she stepped back.

“Feel free to do any poses you like, I will get them to you as soon as I can. Or if you would prefer I could take some with your phone as well. I believe we have a little time before anyone else gets here.” I took out my phone and handed it to her, she smiled wider as she started taking pictures. I posed and she got several angles. You could tell she was enjoying being able to do this. When she was seemingly satisfied she gently handed the phone back to me.

“You look stunning Nae Sarang (My Love),” her face immediately went a light shade of pink at the blatant compliment, even if most of the people around couldn't understand Korean.

“Thank you, you look very handsome yourself. Of course the shoes are a bit out of my taste, Naui Haneul (my Sky).” My manager was the first one to laugh, she was snickering and I shook my head at her before letting the laughter bubbling up my throat go. We were standing there just laughing before someone else came in and approached. Her demeanor changed as soon as they approached.

“It was wonderful being able to take your pictures, if you follow the signs farther into the venue someone will escort you to your seat. Have a wonderful time, we hope you like the show.” I nodded and thanked her before stepping away, almost disappointed at how quickly she changed into a professional. My manager was steering me around with a light hand on my shoulder.

“She has you wrapped around her pinky. Don't think I didn't notice the buttons.” With a quick glance at him I lightly rolled my eyes and kept moving. I could feel the way she held my hand as she fixed the nail polish last night. Her touch was gentle and caring. I took a glance down at my pinky and it still looked as amazing as it did right after she did it.

“Hyung, you only noticed the buttons because you have been with me and helped with the outfit. If you hung out with her more you would understand.”

“I’ve seen how she is with you and the boys. I see how she melds into your group. I’ve also seen how she makes you and the rest of them blush like schoolgirls. She's got wit and class, definitely a keeper; especially if she can wrangle the eight of you.”

“I don't plan on letting her go,” As I finished speaking we entered the main portion of the venue. I gave my name to the gentleman standing at the door and he nodded and motioned for us to follow. He was talking just a bit about the show but all of it went in one ear and out the other. All I could focus on was her, how she really did fit into our dynamic perfectly. She had melded with us so seamlessly that you would have thought we were together for far longer than we have been. My manager gave me a pat on the shoulder as I sat.

“I will be around, if you need anything you know how to get a hold of me.”

“Thank you, hyung. See you in a bit.”

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

Before the show started she was just taking pictures. Something possessed me to grab my phone and take a picture of her. With quick movements I caught a photo of her taking a picture. She was smiling while taking the picture of friends reuniting. As soon as the music changed she turned around and caught my eyes. She gave me a barely perceptible nod and a small smile before turning to face the runway.

I watched with fascination the looks that were walking, but more often than not I was looking at her. She was switching between the cameras that were at her side. Her movements were graceful while she was constantly moving. She had been speaking throughout the show, it correlated with when the models walked. I didn't realize that was a part of her repertoire or something that a photographer normally did; I guess I would have to pay more attention. Between shots she took off her glasses and immediately dropped them before putting her camera back up to her face. I had to suppress my surprised reaction and the need to get up and catch them. The chain she wore caught them and held them against her chest. I had seen the chains as decorations more often than not but to see it be used like that was foreign.

The show was done a little while later, I got to watch her as she was approached by several people. Most of the people were gone by this time, my manager had lingered around waiting for me to let him know I was good to go. She was politely greeting many of the models and one of them hugged her as soon as he got close enough. That was odd, all of the other models hadn’t done that. She was laughing as she hugged him back. Something burning flared in my chest. Why was he hugging her? What had happened between the two of them to make them that close? She separated herself from him and put her hands on his shoulders and said something to him that made him laugh. Everyone around the two of them burst into laughter as well. They stayed close as they continued to talk to everyone.

He was lingering too close to our treasure and I couldn't do anything about it without possibly exposing our relationship. Watching their interactions made something crawl up the back of my throat. With a quick nod to my manager we left. Thankfully no one asked any questions on the ride back to the hotel.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

When Malo approached and pulled you into a hug you were surprised to say the least; nonetheless you hugged him back.

“Look at you getting through the chaos.” He rolled his eyes at you and burst into laughter with the rest of the people surrounding you. All of you chatted about how the show went and the various recountings of their day. You were nodding and adding your own things in when you could. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Hongjoong leaving. Shortly after you caught sight of Rei approaching your group. She smiled and handed you a box.

“Thank you for stepping into the role we needed today. I received many amazing reports from the staff about how well you handled everything. I want you to have these.” She handed you a box, when you opened it your heart leapt to your throat. Inside the box were two necklaces (1)(2) and a small set of earrings, immediately after you knew they were a call to your namesake; onyx. Without a thought you bowed to her when you raised you threw your arms around her. The older woman chuckled before returning the hug.

“Thank you, truly.” She nodded to you before she was called away by one of the lingering people. Some of the people surrounding you dispersed and you made your way over backstage. You packed up your things and started out of the venue, on the way you passed Rosalie who gave you a wave before returning to her conversation. After you were out in the warm air of the night you smiled to yourself, today may have been hectic as all hell but you made it through. With a wave of your hand you hailed a cab and headed back to the hotel.

When you finally made it back you caught sight of a couple of people, one of them was wearing a very interesting pair of shoes. You immediately knew it was Hongjoong and his manager. You walked a little faster and tried to catch the elevator. Your eyes met Hongjoong’s before the doors closed, he didn't move to stop them; he just stood there watching you.

After they closed you frowned just a little, that was weird. You waited patiently for the next elevator to arrive before pushing the button to your floor. When you stepped off you felt something in your chest. Something you couldn't quite place. You made it to your hotel door and opened it before getting things situated like normal before getting ready for bed. Gently you took off the beautiful suit and hung it before changing into your pjs. After you changed you just admired the suit. It really was beautiful, Hongjoong had an immaculate taste in clothes. When you finished looking over the suit you moved to lay in bed. Your mind started to wander as you laid there and winded down. What had happened between your first interaction and now to prompt him to be this way? Checking your phone did little to alleviate the ache that settled in your chest. You half expected a knock on the door from Hongjoong; but it never came.

After a while of mindless scrolling you set your phone aside and snuggled deeper into your bed. You searched around and grabbed the Jjongrami and Hetmongi. With them cuddled up to your chest you laid there replaying everything. What had you done to make him not want to come to your room like he had since he got here. Your mind turned over and over not letting you get to sleep; it took you forcing yourself to relax to get there. The ache still lingered but as you fell further into unconsciousness it subsided. A brief hope that it would be gone by morning was echoing like a church bell after its last toll for the day.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 24)

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